


a blind leap of faith

by tigerlo



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: A dash of violence, A fair bit of risk taking, A heavy spoonful of fluff, Alternate Universe, And a healthy dose of you-know-what, Assassin-au, Drama out the windows - literally, F/F, Vanity Fest, Vanity Fest 2018, a touch of angst, obviously, the one where Charity Dingle is an assassin you'd open your front door for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-03 15:57:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 43,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17287082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigerlo/pseuds/tigerlo
Summary: The first time Vanessa sees Charity Dingle is across a crowded ballroom on the seventh of November. She doesn’t forget the date, she doesn’t think she’ll ever forget the date.Vanessa doesn’t know who she is then, of course, she doesn't know the trouble she'll eventually cause, the damage, the complete upheaval of her whole life that will follow this fateful meeting, all she knows is that the woman in the floor length blood red gown is drop-dead gorgeous, very possibly the most attractive woman that Vanessa’s ever seen in her entire life.Or a Vanity Assassin-AU.(Written for Vanity Fest 2018 Theme: AU)





	1. one.

**Author's Note:**

> Yep, so this is the completely bonkers Assassin AU that was kind of inspired by Killing Eve and watching Mission Impossible V and VI (Ilsa Faust, swoon) too many times. It was actually shockingly easy to fit these two into these roles, Charity makes a wonderful assassin, and Vanessa makes a very good moral-stake-in-the-ground, cop. 
> 
> Anyway, there will be three parts, I'll post the others over the next week or so as I finish the last bits of editing. 
> 
> Finally, you're going to have to suspend disbelief at any of the police-specific stuff that I've gotten wrong in this. Research is not my forte and hopefully the rest of the story is good enough to cover over any mistakes. I know they'll be there but I don't care too much, just ignore them if you see any and read on ;) I also had about a thousand alternate titles for this fic and couldn't decide on one so I'm going to use the spares for chapter openers and closers because I still quite like them, I'm not sure how it'll go, but we'll see.
> 
> This was also written for the original VanityFest AU day, but you know, nothing like being six months late to a party.
> 
> x

-

 

**One**.

 

Naïveté? Babe, it’s more dangerous than ignorance.  

 

-

 

The first time Vanessa sees Charity Dingle is across a crowded ballroom on the seventh of November. She doesn’t forget the date, she doesn’t think she’ll ever forget the date.

 

Vanessa doesn’t know who she is then, of course, she doesn't know the trouble she'll eventually cause, the damage, the complete upheaval of her whole life that will follow this fateful meeting, all she knows is that the woman in the floor length blood red gown is drop-dead gorgeous, very possibly the most attractive woman that Vanessa’s ever seen in her entire life. She stands out on that merit alone, breathtaking with her long blonde hair lightly curled and draped over one shoulder, an arm wrapped around her own waist and the other delicately holding a champagne glass, sipping from it occasionally as her eyes scan the room.

 

She looks bored, the stranger that Vanessa will come to know that night as Charity, and Vanessa’s certain that if she had a watch on her wrist instead of an expensive looking diamond bracelet, she’d be checking the time every few seconds instead of letting her eyes graze across the room.

 

The way she does so almost appears to Vanessa like she’s searching for someone who hasn’t arrived yet, she gives up after a while though, dropping her gaze to the Russian dignitary that Vanessa vaguely recognises doing his ardent best to strike up a conversation with her. She doesn’t seem the least bit interested in the conversation, but she seems to answer his questions politely enough, before excusing herself and disappearing back into the crowd.

 

It’s not overly common to have a civilian-clothed cop all dressed up at an event like this, but there’s been enough unrest in London lately that the powers that be had requested a stronger than usual police presence, and Vanessa had been one of the few to put her hand up for duty, along with a small number of others from her station situated somewhere on the other side of the room.

 

She’s not armed but she feels safe enough and confident in her ability to hold her own in a fistfight if it came to it, until the security posted all around the ballroom could come to her aid, so she’s at relative ease as she walks around the room, looking over the various high-brow guests in attendance. There are delegates from a number of different countries here tonight to celebrate some treaty or another, most of which are generally beyond Vanessa’s sphere of interest, but it’s a nice change from front-line duty to be here, dressed to the nines to blend in. She’s good at her job, enough to be well above the rank she currently holds, but she likes being close to the public, she likes being able to help people, held lower down in the hierarchy by choice, not by inability.

 

Vanessa looks back to the spot where the woman in red was a moment ago, a little disappointed not to see her returned to her place across the room, talking to the same man as before. She casts a wider eye around but can’t see any flash of the right colour red, so resigns herself to another loop of the room before stopping at the bar. She can’t get plastered obviously, but it looks more than a little suspicious not to have a glass in hand, so she orders champagne from one of the wait staff, reaching for the proffered glass when she feels a presence at her back.

 

“These things can be a dreadful bore, can’t they?” a voice over her shoulder says smoothly as Vanessa wraps her fingers around the champagne flute and turns towards it.

 

She’s even more beautiful close-up, the woman from before, her lips fuller, the green of her eyes a vibrant contrast against her skin and the red of her dress. She’s slightly taller than Vanessa and she cuts a fine strong line in spite of her height, the muscles in her arms smooth but firm looking as she holds her empty glass up across her chest.

 

“They can,” Vanessa answers with a curious smile, the hairs on her arms standing to attention with the proximity of this woman.

 

There’s something about her confidence that makes Vanessa wary though, something about her surety that makes Vanessa want to put distance between them even though every other non-rational part of her brain is screaming at her to stand still.

 

“Isn’t that why you’re supposed to bring a date?” the woman asks, her eyes moving over Vanessa’s bare shoulders to the deep navy blue strapless dress she’s wearing, in a way that makes her feel oddly exposed. “Where’s yours?”

 

“Don’t have one,” Vanessa replies as confidently as she can, stepping away from the bar to make room for the line gathered behind her, in spite of the fact that her legs feel like jelly.

 

“That’s a shame,” the woman says, her eyes narrowing as she continues to look Vanessa over. “Beautiful woman like you should have a man on each arm.”

 

“God, I can’t think of anything worse,” Vanessa snorts before looking to the woman with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, I mean…”

 

“I think I know what you mean,” the woman replies with a laugh, her gaze unwavering, and it’s almost unnerving how directly she looks at Vanessa like there’s an assumed familiarity that doesn’t exist. “A woman then?”

 

“Better,” Vanessa says, smiling warily, taking a sip of her drink for courage. “Still not really my style, though.”

 

“It’s a shame,” the woman sighs as though genuinely disappointed. “Here’s me thinking I could have asked to warm one of those arms for you.”

 

Vanessa has to bite her tongue to prevent herself saying what she really wants to, or to stop herself from accepting what she thinks is an honest-to-god offer from the other woman, shaking her head to clear the fog left by the buzz of her words.

 

“What about your date?” Vanessa asks her, taking another sip before lowering her glass to her waist, watching as the woman’s eyes follow down her front, over her breasts to her hands.

 

“My date?” the woman repeats, almost surprised by Vanessa’s question once she processes it.

 

“You were looking around the room before,” Vanessa says with a slightly curious frown. “Weren’t you waiting for someone, yourself?”

 

“No,” the woman replies almost too quickly, before taking a glass of champagne that moves past them on a tray held by a waiter. “Not a date, no. I was looking for an acquaintance but he doesn’t look to have arrived yet.” She narrows her eye shrewdly, but not unkindly, at Vanessa before speaking again. “Were you watching me?”

 

Her immediate reaction is to deny it, but something tells her that this woman, whoever she is, will know in an instant that a denial would be a lie, so she nods carefully instead. Because she _was_ watching, because it’s her job to watch tonight, even if she didn’t need to linger on the woman for as long as she did.

 

“I was, actually,” Vanessa replies instead then, extending the hand not holding out her glass to the woman, curious to see whether she’ll reciprocate. “I’m Vanessa.”

 

“Charity,” the woman says in response and she’s smiling but she hesitates for a second, only holding her hand out after a beat, taking Vanessa’s in her own with an attractive firmness. “It’s a pleasure, Vanessa.”

 

“Do you have a last name, Charity?” Vanessa asks, holding Charity’s hand for a moment longer than strictly necessary, almost disappointed when she has to drop it and cut off the buzz of electricity passing between them.

 

“It’s far too ridiculous to tell you the first time we meet, I’m afraid,” Charity says, laughing, her eyes moving unashamedly over Vanessa’s body as she speaks.

 

“It can’t be that bad,” Vanessa replies with a grin of her own, her breath faltering when Charity takes a step closer to allow someone to squeeze past behind her.

 

“It is, unfortunately,” Charity says, sighing as though the truth of it is exhausting. “Perhaps you’ll just have to make sure we have another meeting so I can tell you then.”

 

“And how might I do that?” Vanessa asks as her heartbeat picks up in her chest. She can feel the hairs on her arms standing to attention neatly too, as she waits for Charity to answer her.

 

“Well, you can-“ Charity begins before something in the distance catches her eye and she cuts herself off. “I’m sorry, love,” she says quickly, not taking her eye off the thing in the distance, “I’ve just seen the gentleman I’ve been waiting for. Excuse me for a second, will you? I’ll be back before you know it.”

 

She leaves in a whirlwind of red and blonde, moving away almost soundlessly before Vanessa has a chance to so much as say goodbye, let alone ask for some way of getting in touch with her shouldn’t she make her way back to Vanessa in time. Vanessa spends a few minutes looking for some trace of her, perplexed as to how she could have slipped into the crowd so invisibly, finally catching Charity well across the room, talking to a man of a similar age with jet black hair.

 

There’s a familiarity between them, Vanessa can see that from here, a closeness in the way he grips her elbow and a familiar fierceness in the way she pulls it free and gives him a shove backwards. She’s tempted to make her way to them to help with what might well turn into a dispute, but the man backs down immediately, and Vanessa can see from a distance that whoever this man is, the danger is for him _from_ Charity and not the other way around. She thinks she catches Charity snap something to him before gesturing towards the edge of the room and they both disappear into the throng before Vanessa can follow them with her eye.

 

The disappearance of her distraction brings Vanessa back to the present, and the job she’s supposed to be doing, and she takes a quick inventory of the room in a rush, picking out the other undercovers, catching the eye of a few men on the walls before walking over to another plain-clothed officer.

 

“Alright?” he asks her, smiling and giving her a quick nod as she walks up next to him, sliding her arm into his.

 

“Yeah, fine,” Vanessa answers, grateful that he understands the purpose of her taking his arm, turning his body to hers as they disguise a more conspicuous look over each other’s shoulders. “Everything looks like it’s going smoothly, doesn’t it?”

 

The words are barely out of her mouth when she hears the distinct crackle of the earpiece of one of the uniformed officers behind them, and they both turn subtly to turn and pick up his answer to whatever the call was. The temperature of Vanessa’s blood runs cold when the man pushes past them instead of answering quietly, throwing the two of them a glance to follow him as he says something about _urgent backup, bring the medics in, now_.

 

He breaks into a run across the room, Vanessa and the other officer following as the crowd parts neatly for them, and Vanessa can see the collection of people around a point on the other side of the room, over by the bar. They push through the civilians and find a non-uniformed officer shrugging his dress coat off to free his shoulders sufficiently to perform CPR on a man collapsed on the floor at their feet.

 

“What happened?” Vanessa asks one of the other officers as she drops to her knees to offer her assistance as more uniformed officers swarm around them, some of them dispersing after sighting the disturbance to try and calm the room.

 

“I don’t know,” the officer currently performing compressions answers, slightly out of breath. “He just collapsed while I was waiting for a drink. Didn’t clutch his chest or anything, he just dropped.”

 

“Did he say anything?” Vanessa asks, checking carefully around him for any evidence that might help her understand why. “Was he holding anything?”

 

“Just the wine glass,” the man answers in between counting before he tips the man’s head back, blowing a breath and then another down into his lungs without success.

 

Vanessa reaches over to pick up the wine glass carefully and she almost doesn’t catch it at first, such is the dim light of the room, but she spies something that looks like a fine sediment collected in the last drop at the bottom of the wine glass, her heart leaping at the sight of it, before it quickly dissolves.

 

She holds it close to her eye, blinking to clear and refocus her vision, only to find that whatever was there is now gone, if there was anything there at all. She sets it aside despite the fact that it looks like any other glass in the room now, wrapping it in the officer’s jacket for forensics before turning her attention back to the men in front of her. The paramedics arrive a few minutes later, gently pushing the officer performing CPR off to the side before taking over.

 

Vanessa wraps her hands around the officer’s shoulders, pulling him back to let the medics do their jobs, patting him on the arm consolingly when she catches sight of the distraught look on his face.

 

“You did everything right,” Vanessa says gently, as another officer flanks his other side, clapping him on the shoulder and affirming Vanessa’s statement.

 

She bends down to collect the wineglass, handing him back his jacket as they watch the paramedics work for what feels like hours before they call it, leaning back and pronouncing the time of death to one of the uniformed officers. They call for a trolley to come in and Vanessa watches in a blank state of numbness as they lift the body on, strap him in and cover him with a blanket, the room dropping from a low hush to complete silence as they do so.

 

Vanessa’s long since lost the shocked state that follows death, she’s seen far too much of it for that, but the suddenness of it never ceases to stun her occasionally. Here one second and gone the next. As fragile as the glass in her hand.

 

It almost seems surreal as they follow the procession out and onto the street, as her peers group and then disperse to make their way back to various stations or home to their families, it doesn’t feel right, it feels impossible for the evening to have gone from alive and hopeful to not in the blink of an eye.

 

“Are you alright to get back?” one of the uniformed officers from her station asks as the crowd starts to clear and spread. “Do you want a lift?”

 

“No, cheers, but I’m fine,” Vanessa says shaking her head, pulling her phone out of the small cocktail bag draped over one shoulder. “I’ll call Tracy to come and get me. She’ll want updating as soon as possible, if she hasn’t heard word of this already.”

 

“See you in the morning, yeah?” he asks before gesturing to the glass in Vanessa’s hand. “Forget to leave that inside, did you?”

 

“No,” Vanessa replies, shaking her head before dialling Tracy’s number. “It was the glass he was drinking from. I want to take it to forensics, just in case.”

 

“Good thinking,” he says before he turns at the beckoning of one of the other officers. “See you tomorrow, Woodfield. Get home safe, alright?”

 

“Yes, sir,” Vanessa says sarcastically but gives him a quick wave before Tracy picks up at the other end of the line. “Yeah, I’m alright, Trace. Couldn’t throw your dressing gown on and come get me could you?”

 

It’s not until after Tracy arrives to take her home and she’s warming her hands on the heating vent in the car that Vanessa realises something: she doesn’t remember seeing Charity leave.

 

-

 

She knows it’s ridiculous but there’s something about Charity that sticks in Vanessa’s head for days afterwards. It could just be that Vanessa’s never met anyone like her, stunning and elegant and mysterious and _different_ , but there’s this nagging feeling at the base of her spine that she can’t shake, that tells her that there’s more to Charity than a bit of simple mystery.

 

“Maybe you should tell someone about it, babe?” Tracy asks her, looking across their little cube of a closed office, spinning around on her chair as she speaks to Vanessa.

 

She hadn’t even known she’d had a sister until Tracy had shown up in her department one day with a stack of old photos and tears in her eyes, and sometimes Vanessa can’t believe the ridiculousness of the situation, that they’d both lived entirely separate lives and ended up where they have, as policewomen working in the same unit, and yet here they are.

 

It makes sense though, their father, their common link, one of the more notorious con-men in the city’s recent history having inspired both of their appetites for justice before his death a few years prior. They work well together, she and her sister, seamlessly most of the time, they trust each other, they trust each other’s instincts, and it’s that point which brings them to their conversation now.

 

It’s Charity that Tracy is referring to, because Vanessa had spent the hours following them arriving home last night, filling Tracy in on everything that had happened while she was on a normal patrol missing the party, including having met that strangely confident stranger. She hasn’t been able to exit Charity from her mind since her presence had slipped from Vanessa’s side, and Vanessa has absolutely nothing to substantiate her gut feeling, but can’t shake the thought that Charity hadn’t been at that party by accident.

 

“I don’t know,” Vanessa replies, not bothering to turn around from her computer screen, scrolling through the rather long list of guests from the party the other night that she’d been sent this morning, looking for someone who stood out enough to be suspicious, enough to be a potential suspect. “It’s just a hunch without the smallest bit of evidence, which is exactly what they’ll ask for the second I tell them anything. She wasn’t even anywhere near him when the guy dropped, she was halfway across the room a minute or so earlier, she couldn’t have made it back quick enough and disappeared again without me seeing her.”

 

“But there’s something about her, yeah?” Tracy asks from across the room. “So, find her in that guest list and we’ll bring her in for questioning, and go from there.”

 

Vanessa’s lucky she’d been given an in on the case at all because it’s being managed by a completely different department, but her CO had asked she and Tracy to keep an eye on it and assist when Vanessa had presented the lab with the champagne glass in a sealed bag first thing this morning.

 

The biggest problem with all of this is that they have no idea what the suspects actually look like, whoever was responsible for the man’s death - a foreign dignitary they’d found out upon arriving together this morning in their briefing - not one eyewitness account of anyone seeing anything untoward, or out of place. Not one report of the smallest bit of suspicious activity.

 

“She’s not on the guest list,” Vanessa says with a frown when she gets to the bottom of the report, having combed through every single photo and name.

 

“What?” Tracy asks, sliding over on her chair to Vanessa’s desk. “Who do you mean?”

 

“The Queen,” Vanessa says sarcastically before turning around and glaring at her sister. “No, who do you think? The woman I was talking to, the one who… she’s not on the guest list.”

 

“What?” Tracy asks, and Vanessa can hear the disbelief in her voice as she slides in closer to look over Vanessa’s shoulder. “Are you sure?”

 

“Yes, I’m sure,” Vanessa replies with a sigh because there’s no way she would have missed or mistaken that face, no way she would have flicked past a picture of Charity and not stopped, even if she had given Vanessa a fake name.

 

“Let me have a look,” Tracy says, shoving Vanessa neatly over so she can browse through the names on the list. “What did you say she looked like again, other than bloody gorgeous, because I don’t think they’ll have a record of that on here, even if it is true.”

 

“Long blonde hair,” Vanessa says impatiently as Tracy scrolls to the top again, starting from the beginning. “About my age-“

 

“So, a hundred,” Tracy interrupts her to say, smirking but not taking her eyes off the computer when Vanessa elbows her in the side.

 

“Forty-two, thank you smart-arse,” Vanessa says between clenched teeth as she scowls at her sister. “And tall, taller than me.”

 

It takes Tracy about ten minutes to scroll right through the list but they don’t find anyone that matches the description of Charity, not even with different hair colour or an alternative name.

 

“She’s got to be on here,” Tracy mutters when they get to the end of the list for the second time. “She was actually there, wasn’t she? She can’t not have been on this list if she was there, you know how tight security was.”

 

“I think she was there with a bloke,” Vanessa says with a frown, taking the mouse from Tracy and scrolling to the top of the page. “She spoke to him like she knew him, I dunno what his name is but I reckon I could spot a picture of him if I saw it.”

 

“What did he look like?” Tracy asks as they start from the top again, taking a deep breath behind her.

 

“Tall, like her,” Vanessa answers, worrying her lip as her eyes follow every picture and line of text carefully. “Short, dark hair, looked a bit like an old-school mobster, to be honest.”

 

They run through the guest list again, but there’s no one who looks even remotely like the man that Charity was talking to when Vanessa had spotted her across the room.

 

“It’s got to be them,” Vanessa says with a shake of her head, falling back against her chair. “They’ve got to have something to do with it, why else would they be missing from the bloody guest list?”

 

“How’d they get in?” Tracy asks, frowning as she leans back in her chair, mirroring Vanessa. “Do you think they slipped in as someone else, or found another way in?”

 

“They must have come in as someone else,” Vanessa says, scanning through the list again. “There’s no way she would have been able to get in anywhere but the front door in that dress.”

 

“Perve,” Tracy says under her breath, a smirk on her face when Vanessa turns to scowl at her. “No, look, it’s actually lucky you were because we know about her, don’t we? If you hadn’t been trying to chat up the hot, maybe-assassin, we’d be absolutely buggered for leads.”

 

“I wasn’t trying to chat up the hot assassin,” Vanessa says defensively, grumbling under her breath. “If anything, she was trying to chat me up, alright?”

 

“Whatever you say, sis,” Tracy replies with a laugh, and Vanessa’s just about to give her another quick elbow in the ribs before their CO appears in the doorway.

 

“Alright, you two?” he asks, and they both smile and nod warmly. Vanessa’s not exactly sure how he’s ended up their superior, given what she knows of his slightly clumsy history, but he’s a nice enough guy, so it could be worse. “Bit of excitement last night, eh?”

 

“Fabulous, Paddy,” Tracy answers warmly as Paddy steps into their room. “Although the dead bloke probably wouldn't agree.”

 

“Er, yes. Right you are,” Paddy says, looking slightly guilty with the casualness of his last comment. “Have you had a look at that list, Woodfield?”

 

“Not only have we done that,” Tracy answers for her smugly, throwing her a playful look. “But young Vanessa here might have a lead for you.”

 

“Really?” Paddy asks, his interest immediately piqued, stepping into the room fully. “How’s that then?”

 

Vanessa looks at Tracy, half to make sure she’s not going to railroad the story before she begins, but Tracy gives her a look that says _go ahead_ before Vanessa nods and turns to Paddy.

 

“Well,” she says slowly, glancing back to the computer screen as though it might have changed since their last review of it, before shifting her gaze back to Paddy. “I spoke to a woman there… who wasn’t on the guest list.”

 

“She must have been?” Paddy says with a frown, looking towards the computer. “That guest list was strict, they weren’t to let anyone in who wasn’t on it.”

 

“Well they must’ve because I spoke to a woman who isn’t on it, Tracy and I have checked about five times now,” Vanessa says, tensing her gut and preparing to fight her point. “And before you ask if I’m sure, I am. Or I wouldn’t have said anything in the first place.”

 

“Could you give the sketch artist enough to come up with a rough picture, do you think?” Paddy asks, looking at Vanessa with a serious frown. “So we could circulate it around the other uniforms there?”

 

“I think she’ll be able to do that just fine, if she can’t just draw the bloody thing herself,” Tracy mutters, and Vanessa does give her a quick elbow then before Tracy hisses, shoving her back.

 

“What do you mean by that?” Paddy asks, but Vanessa’s already shaking her head, turning back to her computer, glaring sideways at her sister.

 

“I think it means she’ll do just fine with the artist, Pads,” Tracy says with a snort, rolling back to her own desk. “Send him along presently, will you?”

 

-

 

She spends a few hours with the sketch artist, refining the picture of Charity until she’s happy with the depiction, taking it back to Tracy and ignoring her wolf-whistle before packing up for the day, a copy of the drawing stuffed into her bag.

 

“Sure you don’t wanna come out for a drink, Ness?” Tracy asks her as they walk back to the car, and she prepares to depart in the direction of the pub.

 

“I’m shattered. I think I’m just gonna head home,” Vanessa replies, rubbing at her face. The events of last night have hit her now, the fatigue making her limbs heavy, the softness of the couch and some cheap takeout calling to her already.

 

“Have a wine when you get in,” Tracy says, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. “It’ll put you right to sleep.”

 

Vanessa laughs her thanks before unlocking the car, throwing her bag into the passenger's seat and strapping herself in. She catches her reflection in the rearview mirror, cursing the bags under her eyes before starting the engine and heading for home.

 

She’s dead on her feet by the time she turns her key in the lock, pushing through the front door, picking up the remote for the central heating and flicking it to on before heading straight for the kitchen. The light’s already on when she walks through the door from the hallway and it makes her frown, but not enough to be suspicious - they’d left in a hurry this morning, and in the dark too, it wasn’t uncommon for them to forget to turn everything off in their haste to rush out the door.

 

No, nothing’s out of order at all when Vanessa walks over to the table still flicking through the mail in her hands, her head bowed, nothing at all, until she hears someone clear their throat across the room, and she almost jumps right out of her skin.

 

Her heart’s pounding in her chest as she looks up finally, in disbelief at the figure holding a glass of wine in her hand on the other side of the kitchen.

 

Charity, in all her tall, gorgeous, blonde glory, is standing by the fridge, a photo in her other hand, plucked from under a magnet as though she owns the place, smirking at the sight of Vanessa stunned into silence.

 

“I think a hello is normally standard protocol in these situations, babe,” Charity says with an arrogance that makes Vanessa’s hands tighten around the envelopes between her fingers, and her heart beat heavier, before she saunters over to the kitchen counter, taking a seat on one of the bar stools.

 

“How did you get in?” Vanessa asks as her mind runs a million miles an hour, her eyes flicking around the room, looking for any other immediate signs of danger.

 

“Bathroom window,” Charity replies easily, flicking her head upwards, gesturing to the second floor. “Although next time you could leave the back door unlocked so I don’t have to come up the bloody drainpipe like a rat.”

 

“You climbed up the- what are you _doing_ here?” Vanessa asks as she tries to calm herself, setting the letters on the table in front of her, freeing her hands.

 

“Wanted to see where you lived, didn’t I?” Charity says before she takes a sip of her wine. Her voice is completely casual, as though as much should be obvious to Vanessa, and not at the top of the list of the strangest things to have occurred in her life to date.

 

“And you think it’s okay to break in and make yourself at home, rather than leaving me a letter in the mailbox, did you?” Vanessa returns a little coldly, in spite of the fact that she’s trying to stop every positive reaction that her body’s currently having about Charity’s proximity.

 

She looks sleek tonight, in skin-tight black pants, high heeled boots and a floaty black sheer top beneath a cropped leather jacket that looks worth more than three months worth of Vanessa’s salary. Her hair is straight, not curled, and distracting when Charity drops the photo on the bench to run her fingers through it, pushing it out of the way as she watches Vanessa carefully.

 

“Here’s me thinking you’d be happy to see me?” Charity says with a raised eyebrow, taking another sip of Vanessa’s wine. “Obviously not, eh? Did I misread something the other night, then?”

 

“Happy to see-“ Vanessa says incredulously, and she’ll give Charity credit for her ballsiness because she just waits patiently like it’s not completely obvious what Vanessa’s taken aback about. “Charity, you… didn’t you have something to do with that man’s death?”

 

Vanessa's expecting Charity to bristle or fire up in anger or something, but she watches as her mouth turns up in a smile instead, and she crosses her arms over her chest smugly, holding Vanessa’s gaze with an iron-strong grip.

 

“Christ, straight to the point, aren’t you?” Charity says with a laugh, running her tongue along her bottom lip to wet it. “At least offer to buy me dinner before you accuse me of murder, love.”

 

“So you did, then?” Vanessa asks her evenly, and she’s trying to calculate some way she can get her phone out of her pocket and set it to record whatever Charity says next, but her eyes run over Vanessa’s whole body appraisingly every few seconds, not giving her a moment to do anything without being seen.

 

Charity doesn’t answer her question, and she doesn’t look set to either, ignoring Vanessa completely to hold up the photo of Vanessa at her academy graduation, a little bent and faded from the years it’s spent on display.

 

“You’re a copper, are you? Wouldn’t have thought that,” Charity says next, and there’s a certain amount of disdain behind the way she says _copper_ that puts Vanessa on edge immediately, wishing she was closer to the knife block on the counter.

 

She makes the mistake of looking towards it and Charity catches the movement easily, sighing heavily when she does, tipping her head back in frustration. It exposes the line of her throat for a moment, the tendons straining before she lets her head loll forward, levelling Vanessa with a glare.

 

“I wouldn’t think about it, babe,” Charity says, throwing her head in the direction of the knives. “I’m faster than you, I’d wager. And I won’t hesitate like you might.”

 

“Are you here to hurt me?” Vanessa asks slowly, because for the first time since she’s set eyes on Charity she realises why she might actually be here beyond a social call, and it makes her blood thicken in her veins.

 

“Hurt you?” Charity questions, raising an eyebrow, with a tone that makes her sound almost impressed that Vanessa asked. “It’s not on the agenda, babe. Not unless you misbehave and give me a reason to.”

 

She pauses then, and her eyes move over Vanessa again like they did at the ball the other night, in a way that makes Vanessa feel almost naked beneath them. Vanessa frowns at the attention, but it only makes Charity’s grin widen as she looks at Vanessa’s furrowed brow.

 

“No…” Charity drawls slowly, standing up from her seat, leaving the glass of wine on the bench, and her sentence unfinished.

 

She takes a few steps closer to Vanessa, and Vanessa tries to take a step back but there isn’t any room to move, and before she can do anything or move anywhere, Charity has her trapped between the table and her body.

 

“I’m not here to hurt you, Vanessa Woodfield,” Charity purrs, taking one step closer, sliding her thigh between Vanessa’s, and the heat from her body, the reality of it, makes Vanessa’s heart stop in her chest. She raises her hand, running her finger delicately along the line of Vanessa’s collarbone, just showing through her open shirt, smiling when it makes Vanessa’s breath falter. “Unless that’s what you _want_?”

 

“So, you’re not here to kill me?” Vanessa asks, and it eases some of the tension in her chest. Some. But not all.

 

“Kill you?” Charity echoes with a laugh, as though such a thing would be ridiculous. As though she wasn’t already potentially guilty of cold-blooded murder. “God no. That’d be spoiling my own fun before I even got to the good part. I mean, we haven’t even kissed yet, Vanessa.”

 

“What do you-“ Vanessa questions with a deep furrow in her brow, thoroughly confused and a little annoyed by Charity’s assumption.

 

“Oh, come on,” Charity coos, raising her forefinger to flatten the lines on Vanessa’s forehead before Vanessa can whip her own hand up and grab Charity’s around the wrist.

 

There’s a moment then, a beat where Vanessa’s worried that she’s made a _very_ big mistake touching Charity, tensing her stomach against an expected blow, but Charity laughs obnoxiously instead. She holds her palms up supplicatingly until Vanessa’s hold releases just a fraction, and for a moment Vanessa thinks they might be in safer territory until she realises that the movement of her hand brings the bag still over her shoulder into Charity’s line of sight.

 

She watches with a sinking feeling in her stomach as Charity’s eyes light up and flicker with unnerving darkness, and she plucks the police sketch out of Vanessa’s bag, not bothering to take a step back and give Vanessa any space before she holds it up to the light.

 

“What’s this then?” Charity asks, and the tone wrapped around each word makes the hair on the back of Vanessa’s neck stand on end. She takes a moment to properly look over the sketch before she looks to Vanessa. “You’ve done a good job. Must’ve made an impression, did I?”

 

“Something like that,” Vanessa replies, trying to take a decent breath, her breasts pushing against Charity’s when she exhales deeply given the minimal space Charity’s allowed between the two of them.

 

“Are you normally this uptight?” Charity asks her, amused and smirking at the obvious way Vanessa’s trying to control touching her at various points to minimize the contact. “They’re just bodies, Vanessa.”

 

“Less to do with being uptight, more to do with the fact that I’m being held prisoner in my own home,” Vanessa returns tightly, and there’s something in her words that - surprisingly - almost seems to offend Charity, and she takes a step back from Vanessa immediately.

 

“Only prisoner here is your self-control, babe,” Charity says a little distantly as she holds the poster up for Vanessa to take back, and Vanessa almost regrets saying anything because the loss of Charity’s heat against her is more significant than it is freeing.

 

“I didn’t mean to-“ Vanessa says before she can stop herself, before the rational part of her mind can tell her that Charity will probably laugh in her face if she actually dares to offer her an apology.

 

She doesn’t want to push Charity away, because she’s important. To this case. Just to this case. That’s what matters. The case. Not Vanessa’s growing fascination with her. Not that at all.

 

“Oh, hold the apologies,” Charity says impatiently, shaking her head and walking back over to the bench to drain what’s left in her wine glass. “You did mean it. It’s fine. I’m a big girl. Besides, I like my women with a bit of bite.”

 

She raises her eyebrows suggestively as she speaks the last few words, and Vanessa feels her cheeks redden without her permission at Charity’s completely unsophisticated, but wildly effective, flirting technique.

 

“What happens now?” Vanessa asks carefully, watching as Charity walks around the room, picking up different items to inspect them.

 

Charity lifts Vanessa’s watch from the bench where she’d forgotten to put on this morning, sliding it on her wrist, trying it on for size. She smiles when it settles into place, turning her hand to and fro a few times to find a comfortable resting spot for it, nodding as though pleased with the look of, before pulling her sleeve down.

 

“I’m gonna borrow this, alright?” Charity says casually, gesturing to her wrist before Vanessa can say no, or question why on earth Charity would want something she could buy herself in a heartbeat if the looks of her clothes are anything to go by. “Don’t worry, it won’t end up as crime scene evidence. I’ll bring it back.”

 

“Why?” Vanessa asks, and she wishes she could put a bit more behind the question but the peculiarity of the evening, and her fatigue, are starting to set in despite the clear and present danger still standing in her kitchen, now wearing her watch.

 

“I like it,” Charity shrugs, and it’s obvious to Vanessa in that moment that there really isn’t anything else to it. “It’s very you. Not quite completely utilitarian, despite the rod up your backside.”

 

_Zero impulse control,_ Vanessa thinks with a grimace.   _Classic psychopathic trait._

 

“If you’re going to come into my house and drink my wine without my permission, let’s stick to compliments, shall we?” Vanessa asks smoothly because she wants to try a different tact here, she wants to see how Charity will react if she applies a bit of charm instead of pushing on the offensive.

 

“I could do that,” Charity replies warily, her eyes moving over Vanessa carefully, instantly suspicious. “If you ease up on the rigid-cop routine.”

 

“It’s not a-“ Vanessa starts to object before she realises that Charity’s baiting her, smiling across at her like the cat that got the cream.

 

“This has been tremendously fun, babe, but I’m afraid I have to get off,” Charity says, looking at the new acquisition on her wrist. “Places to be, you know.”

 

“But…” Vanessa objects and she wants to say something like, _that can’t be all, you can’t just leave_. But Charity can, and they both know that.

 

“It has been fun, hasn’t it?” Charity asks her with a broad grin, walking back over towards her like something distinctly feline stalking its prey.

 

Charity leans in when she reaches Vanessa, pressing a kiss to Vanessa’s cheek that clear stops her heart in her chest, her perfume flooding Vanessa’s senses as her lips linger dangerously close to the corner of Vanessa’s mouth before she pulls away with a smug grin.

 

Charity lingers over the picture Vanessa had dropped on the bench after being handed it, swiping it up at the last second, tucking it into her back pocket before looking back to Vanessa. “I’m gonna keep that, love. If you don’t mind. Quite like that you got the likeness so right.”

 

Vanessa’s fully aware that she should be doing something as Charity prepares to leave but her body’s just kind of suspended in a half-frozen state, the place where Charity’s lips touched her cheek still burning, her last syllable ringing in Vanessa’s ears.

 

“Oh,” Charity says, almost like an afterthought as she turns in the direction of the front door. “Vanessa? Don’t forget to take that wine glass in like you did the last one, eh. Be silly to waste evidence if you think I’m guilty. Although I’ve got a funny feeling that you’ll find that they lose the DNA results of this one like they did the wine glass from the ball too.”

 

“I haven’t gotten those results back, yet,” Vanessa says slowly before a creeping realisation dawns on her.

 

Because Charity with all this bluff bluster and cockiness is highly unlikely to be working alone.

 

“Do you have people in my department?” Vanessa asks as a chill ripples down her back because suddenly so much makes sense, Charity’s relative carelessness in touching everything within reach tonight without worry over leaving evidence everywhere, how they got into the ballroom last night, her cocky surety.

 

“We have people in every department, Vanessa,” Charity says easily, in a tone that makes Vanessa want to run, run away from here as fast as she can.

 

“We? What do you mean _we,_ ” Vanessa asks desperately as Charity makes her way down to the front door, clearly considering their conversation done even if Vanessa doesn’t.

 

“Think that’s obvious, isn’t it?” Charity replies, pulling the door open and leaning against the frame. It’s so casual that Vanessa does a double take because this could so easily be the end to a normal date instead of what it is, a home invasion of sorts by a potential murderer. “We: many, numerous.”

 

“Wait, will I see you again?” Vanessa asks quickly when Charity steps out through the door and onto the path, the heels of her boots clicking against the stone.

 

“Dunno, babe,” Charity shrugs casually but her eyes say something else entirely, the keenness of them ramping up Vanessa’s heart rate. “Do you want to?”

 

Vanessa opens her mouth to speak but nothing comes out, because it’s obvious that she wants precisely that, only it’s not so simple to admit it. Because saying yes implies a myriad of other things, it confirms her interest in Charity beyond a simple fascination, even though she shouldn’t have one. It confirms that the smug smile on Charity’s face is appropriately placed. It confirms that Vanessa wants more than justice, or she would have said no, she would have walked their interaction tonight in a completely different direction.

 

“Then you’ll see me again,” Charity says with a smooth grin, not bothering to wait for Vanessa’s verbal answer because the visual confirmation is already clear.

 

“How?” Vanessa asks when Charity reaches the street, walking out the front door herself, smothering the urge to chase Charity down the road.

 

“Regarde autour de toi,” Charity replies in perfect French and Vanessa feels her jaw go slack, dumbstruck as Charity raises her wrist to check Vanessa’s watch under the light of a street lamp.

 

“French?” Vanessa utters, completely taken by surprise as Charity laughs, walking further down the street. “And what do you mean, look around me?”

 

“I’m impressed, DC Woodfield,” Charity throws over her shoulder. “Fountain of surprises, you.”

 

“Not the only one, am I?” Vanessa mumbles as she watches Charity disappear into the darkness. It seems to envelop her as she moves into the middle of the road, away from the light, until Vanessa loses sight of her altogether.

 

It feels like a dream as she walks back inside the house like the last hour has been a hallucination and not reality at all. She dumps her bag on the table as she walks back in, heading straight for the fridge, pouring herself a generous glass of wine, sitting in the seat Charity had just vacated.

 

Tracy will be home in an hour or so, and although Vanessa feels beyond exhausted, she knows that she needs to stay up and tell her what happened tonight. The wine tastes sweeter than usual as she swirls it around her mouth, and she knows she should be suspicious of the liquid given how last night played out for the man currently laid out on a slab in a morgue, but there’s something, some gut feeling that tells her Charity wouldn’t hurt her like that.

 

She doesn’t think.

 

_No_ , her rational mind tells her with a slightly sickening drop of her stomach. The Charity she thinks she knows would want to watch if she ever did anything to harm Vanessa. There’s no satisfaction in her setting something into motion that she can’t see come to fruition.

 

Vanessa wonders how long Charity was here before she arrived home, and the thought occurs to her suddenly as she watches a fly make its way across the kitchen, that her visit might not have been as fleeting as Vanessa could have initially assumed.

 

It might be overthinking Charity’s interest in her, it might be a hint of paranoia, because it’s not like she has anything remotely exciting to be overheard saying, but there’s a possibility that Charity could have left something behind to keep an ear out for her.

 

She sighs heavily, looking around the kitchen at the ridiculous number of places that something as tiny as a modern day bug could be hidden. She’ll make Tracy help her later, but she may as well make a start now. One of the teams from the station could come and do a digital sweep in about four minutes, but Vanessa isn’t sure she wants to alert anyone more official to Charity’s visit just yet.

 

It doesn’t take her long to drain the glass as she walks around the room turning things over before she gives up, taking out the now open case file on the death last night. She reads it cover to cover before she hears the front door unlock and Tracy make her way into the entranceway, an hour or so after Charity’s departure.

 

“Didn’t think you’d still be up,” Tracy says when she shrugs off her coat, smiling as she slides onto the bar stool next to Vanessa.

 

It takes her a second to take note of the slightly serious expression on Vanessa’s face, but she’s quick to respond when she does. “What’s happened, V? Are you alright?”

 

“She was here,” Vanessa replies, sighing warily, turning the base of the glass on the counter round and round beneath her fingers.

 

“Who was here?” Tracy asks quickly before a look of realisation dawns on her, and her mouth drops open in disbelief. “No- _she_ was here? The woman from last night? In this house?”

 

“The very same,” Vanessa answers her with a slightly grim nod, watching the different expressions flit across Tracy’s face.

 

“What the hell happened?” Tracy asks urgently, looking over Vanessa for injury or evidence of harm. “Are you alright? Did she-“

 

“She just wanted to talk,” Vanessa says with a little laugh because it sounds so ridiculous to her ears now. “Oh, and to pinch my watch, but that’s all.”

 

“Didn’t you say you thought she looked like she was loaded?” Tracy asks, the oddness of that catching her by surprise too, before she has an opportunity to comment on anything else.

 

“I’m pretty sure she is, yeah, but she seemed to want it anyway,” Vanessa explains, smothering the yawn threatening to crawl out of her chest. “She did say she’d bring it back though.”

 

“She’s coming _back_?” Tracy asks, shocked and a little incredulous. “What do you mean, she’s coming back? When?”

 

“Absolutely no idea,” Vanessa answers, holding her hands up in front of her to signal her cluelessness. “When she feels like it, I expect. She didn’t really seem like the kind of person to be locked into a plan, you know?”

 

“What am I missing?” Tracy asks after she listens to Vanessa speak, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Why aren’t you freaking out? You’re making me feel like a mad cow for worrying.” Her eyes go wide and she raises her index finger to point at Vanessa. “Wait, you don’t want her to, do you? Come back, I mean?”

 

“What are you asking me?” Vanessa questions her sister flatly, furrowing her brow. “Do I actually want to entertain the whims of a probable assassin?”

 

“I’m just askin’, babe,” Tracy says soothingly, reaching out to her, rubbing her hand up and down Vanessa’s arm. “No judgement, I’m just trying to work it out, yeah? I mean, I can kind of understand if you do. It’s exciting, isn’t it? Even if she’s probably completely bananas.”

 

“I don’t think she is,” Vanessa replies, shaking her head as she looks at Tracy. “I mean, a psychopath, for sure, but I think mentally she’s stable beyond that. She’s intelligent, highly I think, and she speaks bloody French, too.”

 

“French? God, she is a right flirt, isn’t she?” Tracy laughs, her expression softening for a moment when she looks to Vanessa. “Do you really think she didn’t want anything?”

 

“I think what she was curious,” Vanessa says honestly because she suspects Charity might have left a thing or two behind, but she’s almost certain that her primary motive in coming here was to set eyes to Vanessa again. “She’s probably bugged the place. I mean, I would’ve if I was here, but I think it’s probably just so she can hear this conversation, not because she suspects we know anything more.”

 

“She’ll be shit out of luck when she realises we have boring chat, won’t she,” Tracy laughs before it turns quickly into a frown. “Are you going to tell anyone about tonight? You’ll need to if we have to get someone to sweep the house. And a watch? Do you want to try and get a guard posted nearby?”

 

“I don’t know,” Vanessa says slowly, gritting her teeth, lowering her gaze from Tracy’s. “She’s smart, Trace, she’ll know if we have anyone watching the house, and I’m worried she won’t-“

 

“Come back?” Tracy finishes for her, watching her sister carefully. “And we want that, because?”

 

“For the case, obviously,” Vanessa says with absolutely no conviction at all. “Look, I know it doesn’t seem like it but I am actually concerned about that, yeah? We don’t know if she was behind this for sure, but if she is… imagine what else she could have been behind.”

 

“You really think she’s going to let you get close enough to figure something like that out?” Tracy asks her, and Vanessa can hear the doubt in her voice. “You say she’s smart, yeah? Well, won’t she know exactly what you’re doing if it’s just about the case?”

 

“Honestly? I don’t think she’ll care? I think she thinks she’s smart enough to get around whatever I can do,” Vanessa says easily, because she thought briefly about that, but it’s clear to her already by Charity’s cockiness, by the sheer fact that she came here at all, that she left DNA evidence here, that she thinks she’s smarter.

 

_She probably is_ , Vanessa thinks cynically. She can’t have survived long in her world without being extremely so.

 

“All that, and you’ve met her twice?” Tracy says with a raised eyebrow as she pushes off her chair to get a glass of water. “Don’t know whether to be impressed or concerned.”

 

“Both, Trace,” Vanessa replies, sighing and dropping her head into her hands, her forehead resting against the cold bench. “I think you should be both.”

 

-

 

“He’s a bad man, your victim,” Paddy says, dropping a case file on Vanessa’s desk the next morning, looking slightly pleased with himself.

 

“What do you mean?” Vanessa asks a little blankly, throwing back the cover on the folder, screwing up her face at the photograph of the man’s body before thumbing through the pages behind it.

 

“Seven counts of alleged assault on a minor that disappeared beneath the cloak of dignitary privilege,” Paddy says with a grin, pointing to a list of dissolved charges on the piece of paper in front of her. “All the charges were retracted, but because they all happened here, we’ve got a record of them.”

 

“What a horrid man,” Tracy says from her desk, the wheels of her chair clattering on the floor as she rolls on over to look at the folder, too.

 

“Maybe she’s a vigilante, your assassin?” Paddy asks with a shrug. “Like Batman or summat, eh?”

 

“I don’t think she strikes me as the type to do this for fun, even if they’re bad men,” Vanessa says, frowning, because she thinks Charity might be many things, but altruistic is not one of them. “I still think someone’s paying her.”

 

Paddy gives Vanessa an odd look before Tracy rolls her eyes and answers his unasked question. “She’s well in this woman’s head, our Vanessa,” Tracy explains with a sigh.

 

“Righto,” Paddy says, giving Vanessa a slightly frightened look, and Vanessa can’t resist releasing the exasperated groan caught in her throat.

 

“Righto, nothing, thank you both very much,” Vanessa snaps, turning her back on the two of them and looking to her computer screen. “I’m just trying to bloody catch her, alright.”

 

Tracy gives her a sardonic look that very clearly says _but you don’t really, or you’d have told Paddy about your little visit last night_ but Vanessa just glares at her, hard, and Tracy shuts her mouth.

 

She mimes zipping her lips shut and throwing the key over her shoulder while Paddy’s facing towards Vanessa and can’t see her, and Vanessa breathes a little easier.

 

“What now then?” Paddy asks, looking at Vanessa as though expecting her to magically reveal the next steps.

 

“I suppose we have to wait for her to appear again, don’t we?” Vanessa answers with a shrug. “Not much else we can do, other than running that image off to every person we can.”

 

“Right you are,” Paddy says, exhaling deeply before turning on his heel. “Let me know if anything happens then, won’t you?”

 

“Look,” Tracy says when Paddy’s footsteps sound far enough away down the hall. “I’m not going to be ready with an _I told you so_ flag, but maybe you should think about telling someone. Aside from the fact that it’s actually slightly terrifying that she knows where we live.”

 

“Just, give me a bit of time, alright?” Vanessa pleads with Tracy a little impatiently, and she’s not sure what that’s going to accomplish exactly, beyond putting herself in danger for an extended period of time, but she feels like that’s what she needs.

 

Just a bit of time.

 

“Fine,” Tracy says after searching her sister’s face keenly for a moment. “But if she knocks me off in the process of whatever this little game is that you’re both playing, you’re the first one I’m coming back to haunt.”

 

-

 

They find a frustrating complete and utter lack of evidence on the wineglass, just as Charity had foretold when she’d come to see Vanessa, even after Vanessa had asked them to double and triple check.

 

“Well, she did tell you that was going to happen, didn’t she?” Tracy says over dinner later that night.

 

“I don’t know if I believed it was actually possible though,” Vanessa replies, still in a slightly suspended state of disbelief. “Don’t you realise what that means, Trace? She’s got people - or her people have got people - bloody everywhere.”

 

“I know, babe,” Tracy replies, sighing when she takes a sip of her wine. “Which is why I think you should-“

 

“I’m not above thumping you,” Vanessa warns, cutting her off. “I’ve already told you I’m not going to do that. Yet.”

 

“You know, if you weren’t so much older than me, I’d let a lot less go,” Tracy says, raising her eyebrow at Vanessa.

 

“Come off it,” Vanessa glares over her knife and fork, channelling her fury and annoyance over those failed DNA results down the barrel at her sister. “Maybe if you weren’t such a smart arse, I’d listen to you too.”

 

They discuss a few of the victim’s connections and extracurricular activities over dinner - the majority of which make Vanessa surprised no one had tried to off the bloke prior to now - before cleaning up and retreating straight to bed, the both of them too exhausted to bother with a night in front of the telly.

 

Vanessa decides on a long hot shower before crashing completely, staying under the stream of water long enough for the pads of her fingers to prune before she finally steps out. She towels herself off and secures it around her middle before walking into the cooler hallway, closing a fast-asleep Tracy’s bedroom door on the way to her own room.

 

She’s concentrating on the redness of her hands on the doorknob when she walks into the well-sized bedroom, not registering anything until the second she hears someone clear their throat.

 

“You’ve gotta start looking up when you walk into a room, babe,” Charity says from her position perched on the edge of Vanessa’s bed, legs crossed and palms spread out on the covers as Vanessa presses the heel of her palm against her pounding heart.

 

“Jesus _Christ_ ,” Vanessa curses, throwing her back against the bedroom door to help keep herself upright as she focuses on the image before her. “No,” she says fiercely, shaking her head, “ _you_ have to stop breaking in, in the middle of the _bloody_ night, Charity.”

 

“So you’re not happy to see me?” Charity pouts dramatically before standing to meet Vanessa’s eye. “I’m disappointed, Vanessa. Here I was thinking you’d be thrilled.”

 

“Thrilled?” Vanessa asks incredulously, grasping at her towel to keep it closed when it slips, intensely aware of the way Charity’s eyes are traipsing happily over her half-naked form. “I think I just about had a bloody heart attack. Thrilled? Not quite, no.”

 

“You’ll be fine,” Charity says, waving her hand dismissively at Vanessa before narrowing her eye playfully. “Fit thing like you, you can stand much worse than that, I’m sure.”

 

“What are you doing here?” Vanessa asks with a sigh while she tries to calm her breathing, massaging her chest as though the action will help, looking around to try and find Charity’s entry point into her room.

 

“Thought that was obvious,” Charity says nonchalantly, standing to greet Vanessa properly, walking the handful of steps from the bed to the door. “Came to visit, didn’t I.” She pauses, looking Vanessa up and down for a moment before re-fixing the frown on her face at the still-deep furrow between Vanessa’s brow. “Do you really not want me here though, babe, because I _can_ just see myself out?”

 

Vanessa levels Charity with a glare then because she hates that Charity’s called her bluff and made her reveal her hand so easily. She hates that Charity’s bloody one-upped her and won, she _hates_ it, because she doesn’t want Charity to leave at all - she’s almost relieved to see her in fact - and Charity bloody knows that.

 

She gives Vanessa a smirk, winking before taking a step back and walking around the room slowly. It’s one of the biggest rooms in the house, Vanessa’s bedroom, the room she bought the house for, in actual fact.

 

It’s spacious and light and warm, a little love seat under the window on one end at the north facing wall, and a matching armchair on the west-facing wall, with Vanessa’s bed on the east facing wall and a decent sized walk-in wardrobe behind it, a door through to it on either side of the bed.

 

Vanessa has a few framed pictures on the west facing wall above and next to the armchair, which Charity takes the opportunity to pour over before turning back to Vanessa.

 

“Nice place you’ve got here,” Charity says casually, running her fingers along the wall beneath one of the frames. Vanessa can see Charity making educated deductions as she looks at the photos before turning back to her. “Just you and your sister, then? Never married?”

 

“No,” Vanessa answers defensively with a quick shake of her head.

 

She knows she should hold everything back, that would be the smart thing to do, but there’s something about Charity’s proximity that makes Vanessa want to spill everything about herself. It’s not like Charity won’t be able to find it all out anyway. If she doesn’t already know.

 

“Few girlfriends here and there,” Vanessa says, glaring as if to say _is that enough_ but Charity raises an eyebrow, pushing her along without actually speaking another word.

 

Vanessa sighs heavily. “Fine, I’ve had the odd short-term relationship, but nothing ever stuck long enough to settle into something real. Not for lack of trying, mind,” Vanessa inserts cynically, “they just never worked out. Figured it would when the time was right, well… and if not… I have a nice enough home here with Tracy.”

 

“Tracy, the long-lost sister,” Charity says slowly, nodding at Vanessa before she smiles. “You know, I still struggle to believe no one’s snatched you up. Crazy, that.”

 

“Maybe I’m just not marriage material,” Vanessa shrugs, readjusting her towel, in no mood to pick apart her points of failure as a partner, ignoring the fact that Charity already seems to know about Tracy, because of _course_ she does.

 

“Looking that good with your kit off?” Charity says with a raised, extremely suggestive eyebrow as she looks directly at Vanessa. “You’re marriage material without even opening your mouth, love. Christ, I’ve put up with proper arseholes and they didn’t look half as good as you do with barely a stitch on.”

 

“Have you been, then?” Vanessa asks when Charity turns back to look at the photos on the wall, mostly of her and Tracy, here in the UK and the few overseas jaunts they’ve managed to escape on since reuniting. “Married that is?”

 

“Far too many times,” Charity says dryly, throwing a quick glance over her shoulder to catch Vanessa’s eye.

 

“Are you still?” Vanessa asks, shifting subtly from foot to foot trying to neutralise the tension in her body.

 

She’s almost nervous, truth be told, because she knows she absolutely cannot justifiably be, but she feels just slightly jealous at the prospect that Charity could be.

 

“No, thank god, although I still see far too much of the last one for my liking,” Charity says with a sigh, before looking to Vanessa with a smirk. “You would have seen him, actually, if you had your eye on me all night at the ball. The tall bloke with black hair?”

 

“ _That’s_ your ex-husband?” Vanessa asks incredulously, because none of this makes any bloody sense.

 

Everything’s just so flaming messy, and for the first time Vanessa’s stomach sinks heavily at the realisation of just what she’s gotten herself into by not pushing Charity away immediately. She’s almost afraid to ask her next question too, but she knows that she has to. “Is he….” Vanessa begins delicately, before sighing and shaking her head, “is he a….”

 

“Does a lot of things, our Cain,” Charity answers flippantly, walking around the other side of Vanessa’s bed, disappearing into the walk-in robe for a moment, coming back with a slack-jawed expression. “That’s bloody bigger than the one in my place, babe,” she says with a laugh, gesturing over her shoulder with her thumb, “and I had mine build to spec. Got half a mind to marry you for that alone.”

 

“Just that, eh,” Vanessa says sarcastically, rolling her eyes as she secures her towel under her arms again, but Charity’s quick to jump on her comment this time.

 

“No, love,” Charity replies smoothly, making Vanessa feel like she’s being visibly undressed from halfway across the room with the way that Charity’s eyes find her. “I’d marry you for a sight of what’s under that robe, and the quick tongue of yours too, although I don’t imagine you’d allow that. Yet.”

 

Vanessa’s stomach drops at the last syllable, and her face must show a similar state of shock because Charity’s eyes light like a match at Vanessa’s response. She saunters across the room, and she doesn’t slow when she nears Vanessa which Vanessa realises is going to be a problem, so she takes a step back, and then another, until her body makes contact with the door again.

 

“Making a habit of this, aren’t we?” Charity asks her when she gets far too close to Vanessa, her breath minty as it rushes over Vanessa’s lips.

 

She picks up a wet strand of Vanessa’s hair, winding it around her finger a few times before it falls to Vanessa’s bare shoulder with a light _slap_. Vanessa can feel the dampness of her towel against Charity’s pants, black denim tonight paired with a black blazer and low cut singlet beneath it, but Charity doesn’t seem to mind, she doesn’t even seem to notice.

 

Vanessa’s furious at the way her heart betrays her, thumping so loudly in her chest that she’s sure Charity must see the flutter of it against her pale skin when she looks straight down to the swell of Vanessa’s breast.

 

“Yes, you’ve got a remarkable habit of ignoring both residential decency and personal space,” Vanessa says thinly. Charity laughs in reply, tipping her head back, the tendons in her throat stretching in a way that makes Vanessa lick her lips unconsciously.

 

“You know…” Charity drawls, raising her hand and slapping her palm against the wood of the door beside Vanessa’s head. It makes her jump slightly, the sound so close to her ear, and Charity smirks at her reaction, “...that objection would be far more convincing if you weren’t blushing so badly. I think you like my visits, Vanessa. I think you like them a lot.”

 

It’s hard to breathe evenly in Charity’s presence, and Vanessa’s not sure if that’s nervousness at the proximity, or her own self-preservation telling her she’s within fighting distance of an apex-predator and that she should keep all movement to an absolute minimum, like a field mouse with a cat.

 

It’s been a long time since she’s felt so completely disarmed with her own physical capability, but Charity makes her feel like second best, easily. Maybe that’s the thrill of this all, though: just how dangerous she suspects Charity really is.

 

“Charity and Cain,” Vanessa gulps quietly as Charity’s breath smoothes over her cheek. It’s an obvious change of subject, but she’s curious to see whether Charity will allow it or not. “You sound like a-“

 

“Bloody villain duet,” Charity finishes for her dryly, cutting her off as she leans closer to Vanessa, resting on her forearm against the door instead of her palm. “Yes, I’m aware, thank you.”

 

“Were you married for long?” Vanessa asks carefully, not really expecting an answer from Charity, but Charity surprises her, tipping her head from side to side before replying.

 

“Long enough,” Charity says finally, frowning briefly. There’s so much more there - Vanessa can tell that there is - but she doesn’t think it’s anything she’ll be able to extract from Charity. Not yet, anyway. Not tonight.

 

“Why are you telling me these things?” Vanessa asks when the strangeness of her predicament rushes over her again, unable to stop her gaze flicking to Charity’s lips, the warmth of Charity’s body so close to her own hotter than the temperature of her shower. “About him? About you?”

 

“Thought you might want to know,” Charity shrugs casually and Vanessa’s struck with an odd note that she truly doesn’t think there’s an ulterior motive behind these little pieces of information Charity keeps giving her so willingly. She thinks that Charity genuinely _wants_ to share. “But, like I said,” Charity adds airily, feigning nonchalance, “I don’t like staying where I’m not wanted, babe…”

 

She trails off and leans away slightly, her eyes falling to Vanessa’s lips as she moves one heel back, shifting her weight in preparation of moving the other, and Vanessa responds reactively, without thinking, reaching for any part of Charity to keep her here, to prevent her from taking another step.

 

It’s this precise point in time that will signal the beginning of the end later, the life-changing snap of a downward turn, but Vanessa can’t make herself regret it in this moment, even though she has no idea who Charity really is or what she’s capable of, and she won’t regret it later either, when parts of her life lie in ruins around her, the ash blowing in the wind.

 

Her hand snags in the rich fabric of Charity’s blazer and she watches, she _feels_ Charity’s whole body change around hers. Like the breaking of a twig Charity’s body turns feline, her leg pushes firmer between Vanessa’s own, one of her hands moves to Vanessa’s hip, pinning her to the door, while the other traces the line of her jaw.

 

“Knew we’d get here eventually,” Charity says smoothly, her voice almost a whisper as she leans towards Vanessa’s lips, as Vanessa’s heart starts climbing up her throat.

 

“What makes you so confident?” Vanessa asks with a dangerous waver in her voice. “I could-“

 

“You could _what_ , babe?” Charity questions her and Vanessa knows this is wrong, it’s _wrong_ , because Charity’s a bloody suspect and probably a murderer and she breathes trouble and chaos and danger like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “You could push me away? Think we both know you'd have done that already if you wanted to. No, I think you’re right where you want to be.”

 

“Is that right where you want me to be?” Vanessa asks, her eyes fluttering when Charity’s hand not holding her hip moves from her jaw down the line of her throat across the bare skin of her shoulder.

 

“Right where I want you to be, is about five feet to the right on that bed, but this’ll do for now,” Charity breathes, dropping her lips to run along the line her fingers have traced, not quite touching the skin, just disturbing the fine hair instead.

 

Vanessa doesn’t think she’s ever held her body so tightly still in her whole life as Charity’s lips move closer to her neck, up her throat to her ear, muscles tensed from head to toe except for her hand that bunches tighter in Charity’s blazer. There’s still time for her to let go, there’s still time for her to tell Charity to leave but she cannot for the life of her make her body listen to the reason screaming in her head.

 

“It’s late though,” Charity sighs and there’s a rush of warmth on Vanessa’s skin that makes her shiver when Charity speaks. “Maybe I should leave you to sleep. You’re probably-“

 

Everything happens in quick succession then.

 

The hand on Vanessa’s hip moves to the bare skin below where the towel ends on her thigh, Charity’s fingertips grazing the goosebumps raised there, and Vanessa inhales sharply, widening her stance slightly and pushing her thigh into Charity’s hand. Charity’s lips grace the shell of her ear, and then they both hear the door down the hall open and a floorboard _creak_ as Tracy walks out onto the landing.

 

“Ness?” Tracy asks blearily through the door. Vanessa can hear how half-asleep she is but, it doesn’t do anything to quell the panic that fills her as she meets Charity’s eyes.

 

There’s nothing like fear in Charity’s gaze though, there’s something akin to excitement instead, her irises glowing with it. Vanessa’s hand goes to Charity’s mouth automatically, smothering the idea of her speaking aloud before anything actually happens, and she half expects Charity to throw her off but she doesn’t, she just sucks the skin of Vanessa’s palm against her teeth instead, her eyes playfully challenging.

 

“Ness, are you still awake?” Tracy asks again when there’s not an answer from their side of the door, and Vanessa shakes her head roughly at Charity before clearing her throat to answer.

 

“Just about to get into bed, Trace, is everything alright?” Vanessa answers, screwing her eyes shut and hoping like hell that Tracy just totters back down to her own room.

 

“Yeah, I just want to say goodnight, is all,” comes the sleepy reply, and Vanessa watches in abject horror as the door handle turns, Charity’s eyes falling to it, too.

 

“Hang on a tic,” Vanessa says quickly, trying to ignore the amusement on Charity’s face at her panic as she grabs at the doorknob, stopping it from turning. “I’m just out the shower.”

 

She hears Charity huff a laugh out against her palm, glaring at her before whispering as quietly as she can, hoping desperately that Tracy doesn’t have her ear against the door.

 

“ _Please_ keep your mouth shut and hide behind the door,” Vanessa breathes, slowly lifting her hand free from Charity’s mouth. She holds her breath as Charity scowls but shifts over regardless, so that when Vanessa opens the door, Charity’s tucked neatly behind the back of it.  

 

She pulls on the doorknob and a crack of light appears, a low yellow glow from the hallway, just wide enough for Vanessa to view a sleep-fuzzy Tracy through.

 

“Oh, sorry, babe,” Tracy says when she takes note of Vanessa’s towel-clad state of undress. “Didn’t realise you were still in the nick. Everything alright?”

 

“Rosy,” Vanessa answers, nodding quickly before readjusting her towel. “Have a good sleep, yeah? I’ll see you in the morning.”

 

“Alright, yeah. Night,” Tracy says, leaning in to press a kiss to Vanessa’s cheek, lingering close when she pulls back slightly. “Hey,” she frowns sleepily, “did you buy a new shampoo? You smell different?”

 

_Charity’s perfume,_ Vanessa thinks with a dull jab to her stomach. _She can smell Charity’s perfume_.

 

The realisation hits her like a blow and Charity isn’t helping the task of her trying to keep a straight face whatsoever, currently biting her lip to stop herself from laughing or doing something else wildly inappropriate, her eyes not leaving Vanessa’s for a second as she watches from the other side of the door.

 

Vanessa - with a prickle of horror - feels a touch on the thigh hidden from Tracy’s view, recognising the feeling of Charity’s fingers skirting over the bare skin above her knee, and she tenses her stomach hard to stop her voice from wavering when she opens her mouth to speak, trying ardently to ignore Charity’s distraction.

 

“New moisturiser,” Vanessa says quickly, trying to cover the way her breathing falters, but she can see that Tracy doesn’t quite believe her, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.

 

“You sure you’re alright?” Tracy asks her one last time before a yawn ripples through her, her head dropping as she tries to cover it.

 

“I’m fine, Trace,” Vanessa says carefully, trying to inject as much confidence and solidity into her voice as she can while Charity’s hand creeps higher, pushing the towel half-way up her thigh. “Go to bed, eh? You look dead on your feet.”

 

“We can talk in the morning?” Tracy asks her as she yawns again and Vanessa reaches for her shoulder, pushing her gently away.

 

“Course,” Vanessa replies softly, watching with an enormous amount of relief as Tracy makes her way unsteadily back to her own room.

 

“Love you,” Tracy mumbles when she reaches her bedroom door, offering Vanessa a sleepy grin before disappearing into her room once Vanessa says a quiet _love you too,_ in return.  

 

It’s only when she hears the noise of Tracy’s door shutting that Vanessa allows herself to release the tension in her jaw, and then the rest of her body, before turning back to Charity. She shoves lightly at Charity’s shoulders, pushing her a few steps back.

 

“That was _fun_ , babe,” Charity says brightly before Vanessa can speak, following Vanessa as she walks towards the walk-in wardrobe. “I’m buzzin’. Although I’m a little hurt you didn’t want to introduce me to your sister.”

 

“You know what?” Vanessa growls as she walks into the wardrobe, throwing her hand up at the last minute, stopping Charity from following her. “No, you can wait right there.”

 

“But, Vanessss-ah,” Charity complains seductively, stretching out the last syllable as she follows Vanessa to the doorway, but no further. “We were having such a good time.”

 

She can feel the haze brought on by Charity’s proximity fading as reason finds her again, and the ridiculousness of what she’s playing with settles in her brain. Because yes, she’s dangerously attracted to Charity, but _what the hell is she doing_. Charity is a threat, she’s devoid of reason, she’s…. she’s…

 

“God, I’m an idiot,” Vanessa hisses to herself as she turns, making sure Charity doesn’t advance any further into the wardrobe before dropping her towel and hastily throwing on the white waffle robe hanging on one of the coat hooks.

 

Charity doesn’t look the least bit concerned by her anger when Vanessa glances her way finally, leaning casually against the doorway waiting for her. “So. _Ness_ , eh?” Charity trills, her eyes boldly taking in Vanessa’s new outfit. “I like.”

 

“What are you doing?” Vanessa asks fiercely but as quietly as she can, walking towards Charity on her way out and back into the main part of her room. “What the hell was that?”

 

“Told you,” Charity says plainly, as though confused by Vanessa’s reaction. “A bit of fun. I knew you could take it, got a face of steel, you do. I’ve seen video of you working down at the cop shop with it, you’re good, babe. I was impressed.”

 

“That’s what this is about then, is it?” Vanessa hisses, furious but trying hard to keep her voice low enough so as not to disturb and wake Tracy. “It’s a game? To see how much I can take before I snap?”

 

“In a fashion,” Charity shrugs, smiling suggestively before sighing when Vanessa storms over to the opposite side of the room. “Look, fine, alright? I’m not trying to make this hard, I just thought we were having a laugh.”

 

“A laugh?” Vanessa responds incredulously, spinning on her bare heel and throwing her arms up in the air. “Almost letting my sister know that you were here? That’s having a laugh?”

 

“Yes, because it’s no skin off my nose whether she sees me here,” Charity replies, holding her hands up like she doesn’t have a care in the world, her volume worryingly loud. “I don’t care, babe. What’s she gonna do? Call your lot? I’d be gone before they arrived, with her out cold on the floor for her trouble.”

 

“Great,” Vanessa says with a sinking realisation. She was a fool to think that Charity was anything more than chaos barely-bottled. “You don’t care whatever else that was too, then, I suppose? Or almost was?”

 

“No, that I _do_ care about,” Charity replies quickly, setting Vanessa straight, following her around to the love seat across the room. “Us almost cracking on? That was something else entirely. I don’t care about your sister or your investigation, but for some reason that I can’t comprehend myself for all of my substantial wit and intelligence, I’m completely intrigued by you.”

 

“You are?” Vanessa asks with a frown. She’s taken aback by that. Genuinely. Even if nothing else about Charity is.

 

“What the hell else would I be doing here, scaling a flaming building instead of sitting in my own bath with a glass of red?” Charity asks, rolling her eyes as she flops down on the couch, looking expectedly at the space next to her and waiting for Vanessa to sit down, too.

 

“How do I know that you’re not lying for something?” Vanessa asks, looking in every line of Charity’s face for a lie or half-truth as she takes a cautious seat at the other end of the small couch. “How do I know you’re not just working me, too?”

 

“You don’t,” Charity says smoothly, and just like that she’s on Vanessa again, leaning towards her, causing Vanessa’s back to hit the arm of the loveseat as she moves. “But I don’t think you can fake a connection like this, do you, Vanessa? You’re a clever girl, surely you can tell a con from the real thing?”

 

There’s a moment then where Vanessa is sure Charity is going to lean in to kiss her, she’s _sure_ of it. Her eyes flutter closed and her hands abandon clutching her own robe to fist in Charity’s blazer instead, and just as she feels Charity’s breath wash over her cheek again, the presence over her disappears completely.

 

Vanessa opens her eyes blearily, expecting to see Charity a few inches away, jolted out of her slight haze when her eyes find her standing over by the window, pulling the sash up, instead.

 

“Where are you-?” Vanessa asks disbelievingly, her mouth dry and her heartbeat messy. “What-“

 

“Time’s run out, love,” Charity replies with a smirk, throwing one of her legs out of the window. “Spent too long moaning at me and not with me, didn’t you? Now I’ve gotta run.”

 

“Are you late for something?” Vanessa questions, wracking her brain as quickly as she can, trying to think of what else might be on in the city tonight that Charity would need to make haste to, dressed like she is.

 

“Tell you next time,” Charity winks at her. She pauses before she ducks her head under the frame, as though reconsidering something. She steps back into the room after another beat, crossing the distance between them quickly, and before Vanessa can breathe or argue or do anything, Charity kisses her hard on the lips.

 

It’s chaste and rough and without any of the finesse she knows Charity is capable of, but it’s electric regardless. It makes Vanessa sigh around it for a split second, running her hands down Charity’s arms before Charity pulls away sharply, walking directly for the window, not bothering to linger over the frame this time.

 

Charity’s already outside, expertly clinging to the drainpipe when Vanessa’s eyes open finally, and she blows Vanessa one last kiss before disappearing. Vanessa hears the sound of Charity sliding down and a muffled _thump_ when her boots hit the ground. She strides quickly across the room to watch Charity slink off into the darkness of her garden, throwing her one last smug look before she’s gone completely.

 

Vanessa’s fingers touch her still-buzzing lips as she drops unsteadily onto the edge of the bed. She doesn’t bother to change into anything else before she falls back into the softness of the covers, her hand shaking as she traces the line Charity’s lips had graced across her own.

 

Only god - or the devil, more likely - knows what she’s going to do next, because she should be on the phone to Paddy, or yelling for Tracy down the hall, but she doesn’t do a thing.

 

She stares at the white ceiling above her instead, replaying the way Charity’s hands felt on her skin.

 

It’s hours before she sleeps.

 

-

 

**End/One.**

 

(Blink all you like, Vanessa, reality ain’t gonna change.)

 

-


	2. two.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vanessa starts to keep secrets from the people in her life and Charity makes an unexpected reappearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone,
> 
> Originally I thought this would be three chapters but it would have made chapter two 18,000 words and I think that's probably a wee bit long so I've decided to split it up. No biggie though, just means it'll make the story last for a bit longer :)
> 
> I'll try and get the next chapter up in a few days but until then, enjoy this one. Oh, and probably don't read this one at work.
> 
> x

-

 

**Two.**

 

Cross your heart, I’ll try not lie, our days are numbered, we all must die.

 

-

 

She doesn’t tell Tracy about her visitor come the morning, even though she knows that she should, that she almost has an obligation to.

 

Something holds her back at breakfast, and then in the car on the way to the station. Maybe it’s the kiss, or maybe it’s Vanessa just being selfish, that she wants to keep something to herself for once. If she thought Tracy was in any danger whatsoever she’d tell her in a heartbeat, but she doesn’t think it’s like that. Vanessa has no doubt that Charity would defend herself to the death if necessary, but she doesn’t think she harbours any specific ill-will towards Tracy.

 

She can’t justify it at all, but it feels like something she needs to hold close to her chest, Charity’s second visit, like she needs to keep it hidden in order to hold everything else together.

 

“You sure you’re alright, V?” Tracy asks one last time when she places a coffee in front of Vanessa as they wait for their morning briefing.

 

“Fine, love,” Vanessa replies, smiling genuinely at her sister until the frown on her forehead dissolves, giving her hand a quick squeeze once she sets the mug down on the desk. “Promise, yeah? Just a bit tired is all.”

 

She can tell it doesn’t completely alleviate Tracy’s worry, but it does something at least, before Paddy sweeps into the room with an official looking bloke that Vanessa’s never seen before.

 

“Morning all,” Paddy says before clearing his throat and donning one of his more serious expressions. “Right, well bad news to start off, I’m afraid. We’ve had another high-profile death overnight. One of our domestic diplomats with a few risqué ties in the Middle East has been found dead in his apartment. We’ve been asked to be on-call to provide a bit of extra security around the city if needed, so be ready for a shoulder tap, alright?”

 

“What happened?” Vanessa asks before anyone else has the chance too, her stomach sinking as she takes the information in.

 

“Someone cut his throat in the bathtub,” Paddy says with a grimace, and the room rumbles with a general consensus of unease before he speaks again. “We’ll pass a few details round shortly but get on with your days in the meantime, we’ll let you lot know if there’s anything we need.”

 

Tracy looks at her with a frown, the question clear on her face as the rest of the room disperses. “Do you think it could have been-“ Tracy begins to ask before Vanessa cuts her off.

 

“I don’t know, Trace,” Vanessa replies with a sigh, standing and looking for Paddy across the room.

 

“Do you think this could be your new friend?” Paddy questions when Vanessa beckons him over.

 

“No bloody idea, Paddy,” she answers a little impatiently. “Not like I have her phone number, is it?”

 

“Shame, that,” Paddy grumbles absently, not seeming too concerned. “Anyway, Tracy, look before I forget, this won’t be for a while but you’ve been requested to mind one of the female correspondents from Croatia in a month when they’re over covering some inquest. It’ll be a few days, you’ll do shifts with another couple of officers, but they’ll put you up in the same hotel if you fancy a bit of variety for a change, and you don’t have to accept.”

 

“No, I’d love to,” Tracy replies brightly, beaming as she looks to Vanessa. “You'll be alright on your own, won’t you, sis?”

 

“I think I’ll be fine,” Vanessa says, prodding Tracy in the ribs for the cheek. “Not having to deal with your mess for a few days? It’ll be like a holiday for me, too.”

 

“Oi,” Tracy objects, scowling at Vanessa before she turns to Paddy with a more serious expression.

 

“What was the time of death?” Vanessa asks with a frown, taking a sip of her cooling coffee.

 

“Between 0200 and 0400,” Paddy replies, briefly flicking through the files in his hand before looking back up at her. “Why?”

 

“Just curious,” Vanessa answers as a cold shiver snakes down her back and realisation finds her, because it must have been just after midnight when Charity had made her way out of the window. More than enough time, almost the perfect amount in fact, for her to make her way back into the city where the victim’s apartment building was.  

 

Paddy dismisses them both and they walk back to their office in a thought-heavy silence until Tracy closes the door behind them, turning on Vanessa with her hands on her hips.

 

“There’s something you’re not telling me, lady,” Tracy says frankly, prompting the conflict in Vanessa’s head to churn again. “Out with it, alright?”

 

It’s on the tip of her tongue before she manages to claw it back this time, but she does, shaking her head at her sister, placing her hands gently on Tracy’s shoulders.

 

“Look, it’s nothing, alright?” Vanessa says, rubbing her palms up and down the tops of Tracy’s arms. “I promise, I’m just in my head about all of this, yeah? It’s just… it’s all a bit off, you know?”

 

“I know, babe,” Tracy replies, taking Vanessa’s hands into her own, giving them a quick squeeze before pulling her in for a brief hug. “Just…if something’s on your mind, tell me, will you? Please? Don’t suffer away in silence.”

 

“I will,” Vanessa says, regardless of the fact that she already knows that she won’t take Tracy up on her offer, the guilt of her internal decision grinding painfully for a second before Tracy releases her hands.

 

“Good,” Tracy beams before turning back to her desk, evidently happy with Vanessa’s assurance. “Now, let's have a look at those details from this case last night, shall we. Just in case we can turn anything up.”

 

-

 

Just like the death at the ball, there’s an almost ridiculous lack of evidence found in the victim's apartment, no DNA, nothing out of place whatsoever. It’s the wake of a true professional, Vanessa understands with an abject horror in the days that follow the investigation of this death, someone that does this for a living, someone that does this a _lot_.

 

She half expects Charity to show up in the middle of the night in the week after, even going so far as unlocking the latch on the sash window, but she doesn’t see hide nor hair nor sign of Charity for weeks. There aren’t any other reported deaths or murders either, everything goes completely quiet, to the point where Vanessa’s genuinely worried that something might actually have happened to her.  

 

So, much to her immense disappointment, Vanessa slips back into her old life before Charity. She and Tracy go to work, have a few successes on some older cases they’ve been trying to solve for a long time, but everything feels ever so slightly duller without the mystery or danger of Charity’s presence.

 

Deep down Vanessa knows it’s for the best that she doesn’t make another unexpected appearance in her life, she knows that any path with Charity on it can only end in chaos, but it doesn’t stop her from missing her, just a little, regardless.

 

She knows that Charity is bound to turn up when she least expects her to, once she’s given up hope of ever seeing her again, because hiding away for a month to make Vanessa worry seems like exactly the kind of thing that Charity would do for fun, so she tries not to let the worry bother her too greatly. She’ll come back, or she won’t.

 

And not a lot of that is within Vanessa’s power to affect.

 

-

 

Vanessa’s lying on Tracy’s bed as she throws a few things into a bag on the morning of her first day on minding duty, frowning as she tries to choose between two sets of sleepwear, before Vanessa grabs one and throws it into the bag for her.

 

“There,” Vanessa says with a sigh as she pushes herself up into a sitting position. “I’ve decided for you. Look, it’s not like you’re going to be able to meet a bloke while you’re there. You hardly need to worry about what you’re going to wear to bed, do you?”

 

“You never know,” Tracy scowls at Vanessa before she starts to pack her toiletries away in a bag too. “Romance is unpredictable, babe. You don’t know when it’s going to find you.”

 

“I know that,” Vanessa says with a teasing glare. “I just don’t think it’s gonna be while you’re guarding a woman who probably won’t be leaving the hotel more than twice a day.”

 

“Never know, I might fall for her,” Tracy replies, winking and prodding Vanessa in the thigh as she takes a seat next to her on the edge of the bed. “I’m not one to turn down an opportunity, am I.”

 

“No, you’re not, although your past track-record dotted exclusively with men might speak against that slightly,” Vanessa says with a smirk. “But I appreciate the fluidity, regardless.”

 

“Will you be alright here?” Tracy asks before shaking her head at the look of objection on Vanessa’s face. “I know that you’re a bloody grown up and you’re _far_ older than me and therefore wiser, but I just wanna make sure, V. I know it’s frustrating not having an answer to the whole Charity debacle, but you’ve been a bit down since the whole thing happened.”

 

“I’ll be fine, Trace,” Vanessa assures her, patting Tracy’s knee. “Maybe I just need a few days to wallow and get it out of my system. Just frustrating, isn’t it?”

 

“It really is, eh?” Tracy agrees, nodding her head and putting her hand over Vanessa’s. “Maybe you should call in sick tomorrow? Make a real few days of it? Settle into a nest on the couch, and I’ll make sure you’re alive when I get back.”

 

“Not a half bad idea, actually,” Vanessa admits before Tracy stands, finishing her packing as Vanessa watches on. “Maybe I will.”

 

“It’ll be good for you, V,” Tracy announces, zipping up her bag with an air of finality about her. “A few days of self-care.”

 

“Thanks, mother,” Vanessa answers smartly and Tracy throws her a glare but she smiles at the end of it. “Right, come on,” Vanessa drawls reluctantly, “we’d best go or we’ll be late for work.”

 

-

 

It’s late by the time Vanessa finally arrives home, having stopped for a drink and a quick bite at the pub with a few of the others, before turning in for the evening.

 

She’s tired when she pushes open the door but even still, she registers that something's off the second she steps into the house. There’s a dampness in the air coming down the stairs from the bathroom like someone’s had the shower running for an extended period of time, which is impossible because Tracy’s not here, she’d just messaged to say that she was set up at the hotel, which can only mean…

 

She glances into the kitchen, looking for an actual sign of Charity but there’s nothing there, so she drops her bag at the bottom of the stairs before proceeding up them slowly. She steps purposefully on the squeaky board at the top of the landing, hoping that’ll alert Charity if she’s still up here.

 

She’s expecting something by way of a smart-arse greeting if Charity is still about, but not quite the full spectacle waiting for her, perched on the edge of her bathtub, currently wearing her robe.

 

“Thought you were gonna stand me up, babe,” Charity says brightly enough that for a moment Vanessa doesn’t notice the pile of quite clearly damaged clothes in a heap at Charity’s feet, or the bare skin exposed by the half-open robe. No, all she notices other than the smile on her face, is the way Charity’s shrugged one shoulder of the robe off to attend to the deep looking gash in her upper arm, currently held closed by her thumb and forefinger.  

 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Vanessa asks her with a heavy note of exasperation in her voice. “And what the hell happened to you?”

 

“My shower’s broken,” Charity says smartly before wincing, and Vanessa takes a step closer, not sure whether she’s drawn to the show of weakness or just Charity herself. “Look, you don’t happen to have a needle and thread here, do you?”

 

“Only if you tell me why you’re really here and what happened to you?” Vanessa replies with a frown, crossing her arms over her chest to stop her reaching for Charity to help, because she’s wildly annoyed by her sudden appearance, half-panicked about whether to expect someone crashing down the door to finish whatever happened to Charity, but more significantly, she’s enormously relieved that she’s here.

 

“Babe, can we please do that after?” Charity says with a huff, throwing a glance to the bottle of scotch Vanessa hadn’t noticed before, sitting next to the sink. “I had a good swig of that before but it’s just about worn off, and this stings a bit, yeah, but I can’t have another sip while I’m holding it closed. I’ll be fine once it’s sewn shut but-“

 

“Alright,” Vanessa sighs heavily, stepping forward, dropping to her knees in front of the sink, digging through the cupboard before she finds the first aid kit.

 

She holds it out to Charity who reaches for it with the injured arm before Vanessa moves it out of her reach quickly. “Before I give you this,” Vanessa says with a frown, “why are you here? It could easily have been Tracy home, not me.”

 

“No, it couldn’t have,” Charity says impatiently, making a grab for the first aid kit, just managing to snatch it out of Vanessa’s hand, much to her annoyance.

 

“What do you mean?” Vanessa questions, watching Charity expertly open the small first-aid kit with one hand, pulling out the needle and thread before dropping the rest of the kit on the floor by her feet.

 

“Come on, Vanessa, do you think it’s a coincidence your sister got called off to a job on the night that I show up here?” Charity replies impatiently, fixing Vanessa with a look. “Who do you think organised the bloody thing in the first place?”

 

“You couldn’t…” Vanessa says in disbelief, shaking her head as she stands, leaning back against the bathroom sink.

 

“Couldn’t I?” Charity returns in a similar tone before her eyes move approvingly over Vanessa’s body. “Do anything for some uninterrupted time with a beautiful woman, I would. You look nice, by the way.”

 

“Stop distracting me,” Vanessa says crossly, trying to ignore the way the compliment makes her whole body warm. “Are you telling me that you organised for Tracy to be off on this jaunt for a few days so that you could come and see me?”

 

“Is that really so hard to believe, Vanessa?” Charity asks her, tilting her head as her watches Vanessa carefully. “After the last time we saw each other?”

 

The memory of Charity’s lips on hers is like a vision, inundating her senses for a moment with the replay of her lips soft but her hand on the back of Vanessa’s neck, firm, leading. She knows that Charity’s thinking the same thing until she drops her head, pushing the needle shallowly through her skin, hissing at the pain, and Vanessa refocuses instantly.

 

“Shouldn’t you be in a hospital having that taken care of?” Vanessa asks with a sigh, moving to sit on the edge of the bath next to Charity, who doesn’t even bother replying, opting for glaring at Vanessa instead. Vanessa rolls her eyes before holding out her hands expectantly. “Just, stop for a second. Will you at least let me do that for you?”

 

“I can deal better with the pain if I’m the one doing the doing, babe,” Charity replies with a tensed jaw, glancing up to Vanessa after she pulls the first thread through. “You can help hold it closed though, if you’re not squeamish.”

 

Vanessa throws her a look before washing her hands quickly, wrapping her hands around Charity’s upper arm and holding the wound closely shut. It’s not as bad as she first thought but it’s still deep enough to actually require stitches, and Vanessa’s impressed that Charity knows that. She watches transfixed as Charity does an exceptionally professional job in tending to it, her assistance allowing Charity to work much quicker, repeating her actions a few times before tying the thread off and biting it between her teeth to sever it.

 

Charity leans down, digging around in the first aid kit with both hands when she’s done, ignoring what Vanessa knows will be a sharp burning in her upper arm, coming back with a gauze pad and a bandage.

 

“You can help with this too if you don’t mind?” Charity asks with an odd beat of domesticity, like she’s asking Vanessa to help with the dishes. She waits for Vanessa to tear open the packet and hold the pad over the neatly stitched wound before she winds the bandage around, tucking the edge in when she’s finished.

 

“We should have disinfected it,” Vanessa realises as Charity zips the first aid kit back up, handing it cordially to Vanessa like it’s something they do regularly.

 

“That’s what the scotch was actually for, love,” Charity replies with a wink, moving to face Vanessa properly, turning her body fully so that Vanessa gets a full view of her barely covered chest. “Did it before I got in the shower. Good pressure in there, by the way.”

 

“Does this sort of thing happen to you often?” Vanessa asks, catching a few silver blemishes on the skin of Charity’s chest that she can see, marks of long healed, wicked looking scars.

 

“Sometimes,” Charity says noncommittally, shrugging and barely wincing when she jostles her injured arm. “Depends.”

 

“On?” Vanessa asks, her voice flat and her eyebrow cocked.

 

“Well, I’ve normally got a pretty good mind for concentration when I’m working, but I was distracted tonight, you see,” Charity answers, and Vanessa’s not certain that she’s deduced the insinuation correctly, but she _thinks_ she has.

 

“Distracted by what?” Vanessa questions unsteadily, as her whole body tenses on the edge of the bathtub in anticipation of Charity’s response.

 

She doesn’t reply verbally though, Charity, she just rolls her eyes instead, reaching for Vanessa’s chin, holding her in place as she moves forward and presses her lips against Vanessa’s own.

 

It couldn’t be more different to their first kiss, because Charity is fluid again now like she was pushed up against Vanessa’s body and the wall during her last visit, no trace of the hardness of before.

 

Her lips mould to Vanessa’s, her teeth gently coaxing Vanessa’s bottom lip, encouraging it to part before her tongue slides hotly against Vanessa’s. It takes Vanessa by surprise, the depth of it, Charity’s keenness, and she almost loses her balance, wobbling on the edge of the bath, so distracted by the complete reorientation of her senses before Charity’s hands on her hips steady her. They move up Vanessa’s sides from there, tugging her closer, and she slides easily towards Charity on the porcelain, her leg knocking against Charity’s as her own hands land on Charity’s thighs.

 

Charity makes a sound in her throat when Vanessa’s hands flex over the muscles in her legs like a growl, pulling Vanessa to her with a firmer grip until breathing becomes a necessity and they break apart, panting. Charity runs her thumb along the line of Vanessa’s jaw as if inspecting it, her eyes hot on Vanessa’s face while Vanessa’s whole body vibrates like a plucked string. She smiles smugly, her eyes glowing a lighter green before she finally answers Vanessa’s earlier question.

 

“Distracted by the thought of _that_ , babe,” Charity says almost like she’s still in a daze herself. “Been distracted for a bloody month by the thought of that, in fact.”

 

“Why did you wait a month?” Vanessa asks breathlessly. “If you wanted to come back, why did you wait a month?”

 

“I’m a busy lady, Vanessa,” Charity answers smugly as her hands move down to Vanessa’s sides. “Had to sort a few things before I could clear my schedule for a while. Besides, absence makes the heart grow fonder, doesn’t it. Didn’t think you’d want to see me straight away, anyway, you looked like you wanted to deck me after that little game with your sister.”

 

“What do you mean, clear your schedule?” Vanessa asks with a frown, her eyes fluttering closed when Charity massages the muscles at the top of her hip bones.

 

“Your sister’ll be gone a few days,” Charity shrugs again. “Seems like a waste not to use that time, don’t you think? Wouldn’t want you to be lonely, babe.”

 

Her stomach swoops at Charity’s words, at the implied intent behind them, and she can feel her body warming under Charity’s hands, almost sure Charity can feel the change in temperature too. She’s conflicted though, now that Charity’s made her own desire very clear, because she wants to ask Charity a thousand things before she relaxes, but she knows that’ll most probably drive Charity up and out of this house quicker than anything else.

 

Her eyes move over Charity’s face while she tries to make her decision, to do the right thing, to ask Charity the questions she knows that she needs to, about who Charity is, about what she does, or to abandon her moral compass completely and to give in to something she wants so badly that she can barely focus.

 

“Do you always overthink this much?” Charity asks, tilting her head to the side with an amused grin. “It’s very cute. Exhausting though, isn’t it?”

 

“It’s my job to,” Vanessa breathes in reply, biting her lip to suppress a moan when Charity’s hands knead her sides with a delicious firmness. “I have to think about everything.”

 

“This doesn’t have to be complicated if you don’t make it complicated, Vanessa,” Charity offers smoothly, and Vanessa knows in her heart of hearts that she’s right, this can be a simple, one-off fling if she wants.

 

Only she’s not sure that’s really what she _does_ want.

 

She’s not sure whether she could turn Charity away again if she turned up on Vanessa’s doorstep, even with a murder weapon in her hand, and she knows how wrong that is when she’s spent the last twenty years trying to work for the good guys, but there’s something about Charity that’s _magnetic_ , there’s something about Charity that tells Vanessa there’s _far_ more to her than what she can see on the surface. There’s something in her too that Vanessa knows isn’t all bad, despite the fact that every one of their interactions has been preceded by a murder, very probably at Charity’s hands.

 

“Why are you here?” Vanessa asks her finally, and she does so simply because she knows that Charity will understand what it is she really wants to know.

 

“Do you think this is smart?” Charity replies, something in her face changing to reveal a deeper, more serious note. “Do you think it’s a brilliant idea for me to be here? I mean, I’m reckless but I’m not stupid, Vanessa. It’s wild that I haven’t just silenced the fact that you already know far too much about me. I should never have spoken to you at the ball, I should never have come here the first time, and I definitely shouldn’t be here now, but I am. Because I _want_ something. And when I want something this badly, I have it.”

 

“What do you want?” Vanessa breathes. She feels like she’s hovering on the edge of a cliff, the drop looming beneath her feet.

 

“You know what I want, babe,” Charity says plainly, before leaning in to whisper into Vanessa’s ear. “You know exactly what I want. And if I can ignore reason and self-preservation to get it, then I’m _sure_ you can too.”

 

Charity stays close to Vanessa when she draws away, her lips brushing Vanessa’s cheek, glancing the corner of her mouth on the way past, and it makes Vanessa shiver right down to the soles of her feet. The borrowed robe Charity’s wearing is hanging half-off her shoulder still, the bandage a clean white against the tanned muscle of Charity’s arm, and Vanessa reaches forward, running her thumb along the bottom of the dressing absently, her focus glazing when Charity leans into the touch.

 

“You shouldn’t move it,” Vanessa says instead of responding to Charity’s actual question. “You should rest this, you know.”

 

“I’ve done far more with far worse injuries,” Charity says with a slightly derisive laugh. “Don’t you worry about me, alright. A quiet little night with you will do it right, don’t you think?”

 

“What if I don’t want it to be a quiet night?” Vanessa replies, her gaze lingering on Charity’s lips as her hand wraps around Charity’s arm just above her elbow.

 

Charity raises an eyebrow at her as Vanessa’s words disperse into the air between them, thickening it rather than dissipating altogether. She can tell that Charity’s pleasantly surprised by her insinuation, and she can see her calculating her next move carefully before she visibly decides on a course. And acts.

 

“Handy that,” Charity says finally, and in one smooth movement she pulls Vanessa to the bathroom floor, pushing her back onto the cold tiles with a hand on her chest, before hovering her. “Because that’s actually what I had in mind, myself.”

 

Vanessa catches a wave of the scent of her own shampoo when Charity straddles her, rising over her hips, her hair falling down around her face, and it’s an indescribable thrill, smelling something so familiar on Charity’s body. She doesn’t have time for a good deal of abject thinking because Charity’s movements bring the robe high up her thigh, baring muscle and skin, and Vanessa reaches for her without thinking, running her thumb over a bunched knotted white scar just to the side of Charity’s femoral artery.

 

“Just about killed me, that one,” Charity says casually enough that she might be talking about her grocery list, tossing her hair over one shoulder. She leans down when Vanessa’s thumb traces it over and over again, low enough that Vanessa gets a breathtaking flash of the swell of her breast.  

 

“Is it frightening?” Vanessa asks her when their lips are almost close enough to touch. “To come so close to dying?”

 

“It’s hard to be frightened when you haven’t got anything to lose,” Charity says easily, and Vanessa knows in an instant that it’s not self-loathing in Charity’s voice. It’s pragmatism. “Besides,” she adds, “death’s got to be a hell of a lot more peaceful than being here.”

 

“Do you make a habit of this?” Vanessa asks with a frown. “Is that what this is? You wanting me? Something to fill in the time?”

 

“Plenty of other things I could do to fill in time, love. And just because I haven’t got anything to lose, doesn’t mean there aren’t things to live for,” Charity replies thoughtfully. She makes a point of kissing Vanessa slowly then, languorously, warming the chill wrought through Vanessa’s body from the cold tiles at her back. “And no, I don’t make a habit of perusing women like you. Because none of them are really worth it. None of them are worth my time.”

 

“And I am?” Vanessa asks, as her hands creep higher up Charity’s thighs, as Charity rolls her hips down against Vanessa’s.

 

“Wouldn’t be here if you weren’t, Vanessa,” Charity says easily, shaking her head. “You’re worth enough to have me all to yourself, for as long as you want tonight.”

 

“And if I want you all night?” Vanessa scarcely dares to breathe, the black in Charity’s eyes making her feel bold.

 

“Got nowhere to be for as long as your sister’s away, babe,” Charity replies, her hands pulling Vanessa’s shirt free of the jeans she’d worn to work, her gaze moving to Vanessa’s quickly before she starts plucking at the buttons.

 

“This is a bad idea,” Vanessa says, not sure whether she’s talking to herself or Charity, shaking her head as her hands move higher. They slip beneath the fabric of Charity’s borrowed robe, over smooth skin until they make contact with what Vanessa recognises by touch as her own lace underwear.

 

“Terrible,” Charity purrs, shaking her head as she opens Vanessa’s shirt fully, running her flat palm over Vanessa’s stomach, up higher, stopping just below her bra line. “Disastrous, probably.”

 

“Absolutely,” Vanessa agrees as Charity’s hand moves beneath her bra, the groan escaping her throat easily. Her own hand slides beneath the lace of the underwear Charity’s wearing too, palming her backside, making Charity grind down harder against her hips.

 

She kisses Vanessa messily before moving to her neck, dragging her teeth heavily along the line of Vanessa’s throat, making her squirm, pushing up against Charity too, hungry for friction.

 

“Not that I’m completely opposed to sex on the bathroom floor,” Vanessa moans, her hand tight in Charity’s hair, Charity’s thumb rubbing roughly over her nipple. “But there’s a bed about twenty feet away from here, you know.”

 

“If it was any further, I’d tell you we’re staying put,” Charity growls before dragging herself away from Vanessa, leaning back and pushing up off the floor into a standing position, holding her hand out. “You’re almost too irresistible to move.”

 

“That’s a bit novel, you know,” Vanessa says rhetorically, allowing Charity to pull her to her feet before she backs her up against the wall next to the bathroom door.

 

“What is, babe?” Charity asks, running her hands over the bare skin of Vanessa’s sides, frowning as she looks down at her.

 

“Well, sex for a start,” Vanessa laughs to herself, something she suddenly wishes she’d had a bit more recent practice with, in the face of Charity’s obvious experience, “but being wanted like this. It’s-“

 

“The world’s bloody mad if you haven’t had people fawning over you for years, Vanessa,” Charity replies, leaning her full weight against the thigh situated between Vanessa’s, the seam of Vanessa’s jeans providing just enough friction to make her groan. “You’re absolutely delectable.”

 

She’s not a blushing schoolgirl, hasn’t been that in about thirty years, but she flushes red at Charity’s compliment regardless, and it seems to fuel Charity on. She takes Vanessa’s hand before tugging the tie of the robe to reveal a strip of flesh that highlights the valley between her breasts, right the way down her stomach, to the stolen black underwear that somehow looks a thousand times better on Charity’s body. She licks her lips, smiling wickedly at Vanessa before sliding Vanessa’s hand beneath the lace, into a smouldering, _wet_ heat.

 

“ _That’s_ how delectable, babe,” Charity says easily, kissing Vanessa quickly in between her next breath. “That’s how much I want you. That’s what’s been waiting for me to deal with every other night before I can knock myself off to sleep because I can’t get you out of my head.”

 

Vanessa’s struck into a momentary silence at Charity’s words, at what she can feel underneath her fingertips, at the image of Charity touching herself because of her, but it doesn’t take her long to reorient herself, it doesn’t take her long to get her bearings, to move her fingers slowly around Charity’s core in a way that makes her growl audibly before she kisses Vanessa hard again.

 

“No flamin’ way,” Charity says with a gasp, snatching Vanessa’s hand up. “I want you first, that’s not negotiable.”

 

“What will you do if I fight you on that then, eh?” Vanessa asks smartly, her breath catching when Charity pushes against her fully, eliminating all the space between them.

 

“I’d like to see you try, love,” Charity glows in reply, taking hold of both of Vanessa’s bands and pinning them to the wall next to her head. “Seems to me that you might find yourself at my mercy without too much of one.”

 

“Don’t know about that,” Vanessa says, twisting her hands sharply, managing to throw Charity off for a few seconds before Charity slams her back against the wall.

 

“I knew you had a bit of bite in you,” Charity says approvingly, her eyes almost fully black now as her hands tighten around Vanessa’s wrists. “Good. You’ll need that later on.”

 

Vanessa doesn’t know if she means later on tonight, or later on tomorrow, or the day after, or the day after that. She knows that Charity’s right, deep down, though. She knows that there’s a storm coming, she knows that they’ve set things in motion here that won’t, that _can’t_ , be undone, Vanessa just doesn’t know whether it’s going to leave her broken in the wreckage or take her with it up into oblivion.

 

“You talk a big game, especially for someone who doesn’t even have a surname,” Vanessa smirks, teasing, because she’s feeling dangerous now, because she wants to push, she wants to know what happens when she provokes Charity. “Not too big for your boots, are you? All talk and no bite?”

 

“Oh, there’s plenty of bite,” Charity purrs, sinking her teeth into the flesh of Vanessa’s shoulder by way of illustration where her shirt has ridden up and off slightly.

 

She holds her teeth in Vanessa’s skin long enough for her to squirm, long enough for her to alter her breathing and lean into the pain, to accept it, and she feels Charity groan when she recognises what it is that Vanessa’s doing. She relaxes her jaw, moving closer to Vanessa’s neck before finding an unmarked line of muscle, repeating her action hard enough this time for Vanessa to try and throw her off.

 

“Do you want me to stop?” Charity asks when she pulls back, a curious grin on her lips, her thumbs rubbing over the softness of Vanessa’s inner wrists.

 

She doesn’t weaken her hold though, and Vanessa’s more than a little impressed at the strength she can exhibit with her injured arm. It makes her wonder too, what on earth Charity’s put her body through that she barely flinches at a wound that significant.

 

“No,” Vanessa says clearly, bucking her hips against Charity’s in a way that says _more_ and not _off._ “I want you to take me to bed, Charity. I want you to put those hands of yours to good use before I have to do something with my own.”

 

A wicked smile crosses Charity’s face when Vanessa finishes, and for a moment Vanessa’s whole body tenses in anticipation of whatever it is that Charity’s about to do next, because she trusts her, she does… but only to a point. Because she doesn’t know what Charity’s limits are, but she suspects that wherever they finish is _long_ past where Vanessa’s do.

 

“Don’t worry, babe,” Charity says smoothly, kissing carefully over the bite marks on Vanessa’s neck with a softness she hadn’t been expecting. She drops Vanessa’s hands at the same time, collecting her legs and wrapping them around her waist, sliding her hands beneath Vanessa’s behind to hold her firmly against the wall. “I’m not going to hurt you,” she says, cocking her head and grinning. “Unless you ask me too.”

 

Charity leans against Vanessa’s core in a way that makes her breath catch and her eyes flutter closed, but she doesn’t even have a chance to catch it before Charity moves, peeling Vanessa’s back off the wall and walking her towards the bedroom. She lowers Vanessa to the bed as soon as they meet it, stepping back to stand between Vanessa’s thighs, her eyes flicking to the dome of her jeans.

 

“Take them off,” Vanessa says without preamble, because they could do a delicate little dance here, play shy and coy with one another, or they could save that game for later, after they’ve both had a taste of what they so clearly want.

 

“Bossy,” Charity answers, grinning to herself as her hands move to Vanessa’s hips.

 

Her fingers are quick, and they waste no time pulling Vanessa’s jeans open, shuffling them down her thighs and dropping them to the floor. She reaches for Vanessa’s hand next, tugging her up so she can bend down and push Vanessa’s shirt off her shoulders so that she’s bare, ready for Charity, wearing only her underwear.

 

The urge to cover herself rushes over Vanessa and her arms move to cross her stomach but Charity’s quicker, tilting Vanessa’s head up, her fingers under Vanessa’s.

 

“Don’t you think about hiding anything from me, thank you very much,” Charity says smoothly, taking Vanessa’s hands and linking their fingers together, holding their now joint hands out either side of them. “I want to see it all.”

 

“Feel the wrong side of forty for that,” Vanessa objects weakly, trying, without a good deal of effort, to twist her hands out of Charity’s grip.

 

“You’re not,” Charity says quickly, shaking her head, stepping forward and pushing Vanessa backwards onto the bed. “You’re beautiful, Vanessa,” she adds, moving for Vanessa’s neck the second her back hits the mattress, her teeth eager in the soft skin over her pulse.

 

Her hands skirt down Vanessa’s sides, her thumbs looping under the waistband of her underwear when they meet them. Vanessa’s already nodding before Charity can meet her eye, and she doesn’t hesitate for a second in pulling the cotton down Vanessa’s thighs.

 

“Wonder if you taste as good as I’ve been dreaming about,” Charity says distractedly, licking her lips when her gaze falls heavily on the prize she’s revealed.

 

“Taste later,” Vanessa says firmly, pulling Charity closer, her hands bunched in the borrowed robe, “stay here for now.” She kisses Charity deeply, smiling when she feels Charity settle on top of her again, sliding between her thighs.

 

“You’ve got a bit of backbone, eh?” Charity questions, raising her eyebrow at the firmness to Vanessa’s request. “That’s good. Nothing worse than trying to bed a wilting flower.”

 

“I’ve got plenty,” Vanessa replies easily. Her hands move up Charity’s sides, pushing the robe off her shoulders finally, the flow of her hands over Charity’s skin effortlessly familiar despite the thrill that strikes low in her belly that proves how _new_ this is. “Especially when there’s something I want.”

 

“And you want this, do you?” Charity asks smoothly, brushing her lips against Vanessa’s before pulling back, holding herself just out of reach when Vanessa surges up looking for contact. “Very badly?” she asks again, holding back long enough for Vanessa to huff her frustration in a way that makes Charity’s grin widen. “Or just a little bit?”

 

“Feel for yourself,” Vanessa replies, pushing her hips up against Charity’s body, looking for friction, for anything that might give her a hint of relief. She can barely believe the boldness out of her own lips, but Charity brings it to the surface of her skin like it’s been there all along, and not hidden way deep down.

 

“I could, but… part of me wants to savour this,” Charity says thoughtfully, and Vanessa thinks it’s a serious contemplation too, not only for the sake of teasing her. “Savour you, I mean,” she clarifies, “looking like you’re a half second away from falling apart for me.”

 

It's almost enough to make Vanessa whine out loud but she bites her lip sharply to stop the noise at the last second, for no other reason than because she’s almost sure that giving away how desperately she needs this will make Charity stop in her tracks, just to prolong her suffering.

 

It’s a serious problem though because Vanessa can feel how badly she wants, no _needs_ Charity collecting between her thighs, she can feel herself tense sharply in anticipation of feeling Charity moving, slipping against her, and Charity must see that reflected in her eyes because she smiles wickedly down at Vanessa, before pressing a few lazy pecks to the corner of her mouth.

 

“You’ve got a glass face, did you know?” Charity asks her, the light moving in her eyes like it’s dancing.

 

“I do not,” Vanessa argues, her hands moving up Charity’s now naked torso, around to her breasts, the nipples pert and waiting for Vanessa to run her thumbs over them.

 

“Bloody lucky it’s not so bad when you’re working. You’d make a terrible copper if it was,” Charity teases, Vanessa rewarding her by pinching her nipple lightly between her thumb and forefinger. “I’m kidding, babe,” Charity says soothingly. “I’m kidding. Maybe I like it that you can be open with me.”

 

Vanessa doesn’t miss that she barely flinches, leaning into the sharp attention instead of away from it. “Christ, this is going to make me sound mad,” Vanessa sighs, turning her head to the side and away from Charity for a moment before she feels like she can meet her eye again. “Or make you run a mile, but I feel like I could be anything with you, and I have absolutely no idea why.”

 

She’s almost expecting Charity to laugh, or back away then, for her to have made this all too real, or too deep, but it seems to settle something in Charity instead, Vanessa’s admission, and her face changes, almost softens, before she speaks again.

 

“You know, considering I’ve spent my whole life running from your lot, I feel the same,” Charity answers in a different tone to before, like she’s genuinely perplexed by the fact. “You’re different, aren’t you?”

 

“I’ve never felt very much of anything, to be honest,” Vanessa replies, and if she could shrug she would. It brings into sharp relief how _much_ Charity makes her feel, that realisation, remembering what it feels like to be around everyone else. Like she’s a faceless number in a room, never really noticeable for anything other than her dogged determination.

 

“See, now that’s where you’re wrong,” Charity says with a breath, shifting her hips just enough to allow her to trail her fingers up the inside of Vanessa’s thigh. “I think you’re a lot of things, Vanessa Woodfield,” she purrs, taking Vanessa’s earlobe between her teeth while her touch reaches the curve of Vanessa’s hip and retraces its path back to the apex of her thighs.

 

Vanessa can feel her whole body strung out, waiting to see whether Charity will pull away again or give in. She’s tensed and prepared for a slight disappointment while internally begging for something else entirely.

 

But Charity doesn’t disappoint, she pulls on the responsive flesh between her teeth in a way that makes Vanessa groan loudly, her chest vibrating with the sound as Charity’s hand gets closer and closer to where she needs it so badly that she can barely breathe.

 

“I think you’re a lot of things,” Charity continues when she moves back to the warmth of Vanessa’s neck, “chief among them is a few minutes away from begging me to touch you, and while I’ll not lie and say it’s tempting to try and push you there,” she whispers as her fingers brush over Vanessa’s core, the touch barely there and feather-light before finally, _finally_ they slide more firmly against the wetness collected there, “I think I’d rather show you that I can be a little different too, for the right person.”

 

At the last syllable, Charity allows her caress to firm, her fingers moving confidently between Vanessa’s thighs, testing, teasing, her eyes watching Vanessa’s carefully to see and make note of what makes her squirm and writhe, what makes her jump, and what makes her groan.

 

Vanessa’s not sure what she was expecting, some explosion of sensation at Charity’s first proper touch, but this isn’t that, this is more, this is inundation and ecstasy and blissful torture all at once, because it’s everything, but it’s still not enough.

 

“Weren’t over exaggerating when you said this is something you wanted, were you?” Charity asks, and Vanessa wants to scold her smugness but honestly she doesn’t have the fight in her, she’d much, much rather let Charity carry her away with the tide instead.

 

“Can you blame me?” Vanessa says in place of an argument, arching her back and pushing her hips up, causing Charity’s fingers to slip lower, towards the source of heat.

 

“Not in the slightest, babe,” Charity purrs, her fingers stroking the length of Vanessa before they swirl tightly around her clit with fluid confidence. “I’m irresistible, me.”

 

“And so flaming modest, too,” Vanessa growls back, pushing herself against Charity’s hand. She wishes for a moment that she had a little more self-control, that she could play this cooler and more aloof, but the truth of it is that now Charity’s touching her, she doesn’t think she could bear it if she stopped, and the simple way she can see preventing that from happening is to keep that contact constant, and her mouth shut.

 

“No need to be modest when you’re what I am, love,” Charity replies smoothly, nipping at Vanessa’s bottom lip as her fingers tease low in a way that makes Vanessa clench in anticipation of what she knows is yet to come.

 

“And what are you, exactly?” Vanessa dares to ask because the question is presented so neatly to her, even though she knows she’s highly unlikely to get a reasonable answer, if she gets any answer at all.

 

“I’m a lot of things, Vanessa,” Charity responds with a smirk that Vanessa knows has a thousand different loaded meanings. “A few of which would probably curl your toes, but for now, the only thing that matters is that I’m yours.”

 

“Rather like the sound of that,” Vanessa admits, her words chased quickly by a moan when Charity starts delivering a firm rhythm to the circles her fingers are drawing.

 

“I’m alright for a one night spin,” Charity says with an unhealthy hit of self-loathing that makes Vanessa frown, and her arms wind around Charity’s neck, her fingers pushing into her hair.

 

“You know, I’m not really a one-night kind of girl,” Vanessa tries to say casually, her thumbs rubbing a hard line against the base of Charity’s skull, prompting a groan as she leans into Vanessa’s touch.

 

“You don’t want more than this with me, Vanessa. I’m not a good person. I’m not good for you,” Charity groans, her eyes closed as Vanessa continues her ministrations, rolling her head against the pressure of Vanessa’s fingers.

 

“I think I’m perfectly capable of deciding that for myself,” Vanessa replies firmly, catching Charity’s eye when they flutter open lazily.

 

“What if you’re not good for me?” Charity asks her plainly in return.

 

It makes Vanessa’s heart falter in her chest, because beyond Charity’s passing mention of it, she’s not selfishly spared a thought as to how dangerous this might be for Charity, in her line of work with her loyalties and enemies and complications, and what exactly she’s risking by being here with Vanessa.

 

It’s easy to assume there aren’t consequences for the people on Charity’s side of the equation, but there must be. More, potentially, and far more dangerous ones at that, than those Vanessa risks faces herself. Because she could lose her job if her link to Charity was discovered, at the very worst be charged with diverting the curse of justice in not giving the evidence she’s aware of as it relates to the cases and Charity’s potential involvement in them, but she knows she’s not in any physical danger from people on her side of the fence. Charity though, Vanessa assumes, faces very real physical danger if whoever she works for finds out that she’s literally in bed with someone who knows far, far too much.

 

She knows all of that, and yet it’s the easiest thing in the world to ignore it because Charity is real and here and there’s something about her that makes Vanessa want to ignore everything else.

 

“I don’t know how anything like this can be wrong?” Vanessa breathes, pulling Charity closer, tightening her hold around her shoulders in a way that she hopes is eager and not possessive. “It feels too-“

 

“Maybe nothing this good can be right?” Charity cuts across her gently, and Vanessa catches a flash of Charity’s true intelligence. Of her depth. An indication of just how much deeper her perception goes. It’s easy to forget sometimes because Charity’s so carefree she’s almost weightless in most of their interactions, but Vanessa’s not naïve enough to think she’s shallow in even a single way.

 

It should make her wary, or frightened even, how easily Charity could probably trump her on every level, physically and mentally, but it doesn’t. It makes the attraction to her stronger, it makes Vanessa even more intrigued, it makes her want to know more about Charity, and why she’s here if she has so much to lose and seemingly not a lot to gain. It’s a question for the cloak and safety of the middle of the night though, this Vanessa knows, not for now, but for the muted buzz of a reality more out of reach than the present.

 

“Are you always this philosophical when you’re bringing someone to orgasm?” Vanessa asks in an attempt to make light of the weight she can feel hovering above both of their heads, and it makes Charity laugh in spite of its obviousness, or maybe because of it.

 

“Normally there’s just a lot less talking,” Charity answers her easily, grinning, and her smile makes Vanessa’s heart beat faster and faster as her fingers dip lower, teasing the heavy thickness at the base of her desire. “Although I must say I am a fan of intelligent conversation, babe. I wonder how clever that tongue of yours is when you’re tensing around my fingers though?”

 

Vanessa’s about to frown in question but Charity doesn’t give her a chance, sliding two fingers deep _slowly_ before she can so much as make a sound, and Vanessa tenses around her instantly, welcoming her in. Charity’s knuckles bump against her, her thumb brushing Vanessa’s clit messily when she reaches the deepest point she can inside Vanessa, and Vanessa’s back rises off the bed in answer, her moan almost completely lacking volume, all air instead.

 

“Not a word, eh?” Charity asks playfully, leaning down low against Vanessa’s body, her eyes searching Vanessa’s face hungrily before her lips trace the line of Vanessa’s collarbone, proud and high with the bend in her back. “Colour me disappointed, Vanessa.”

 

“Jesus, Charity,” Vanessa manages to gasp finally, the word strangled in her throat, but she doesn’t care, not an ounce, all she does care about the way that Charity’s fingers are beginning to pump quicker and quicker and quicker, curling as they beckon Vanessa towards the cliff she can feel coming nearer.

 

“What was that, babe?” Charity asks smugly, the words vibrating against Vanessa’s chest when Charity dips her head to take Vanessa’s nipple into her mouth. “People have called me a lot of names over the years, don’t think I’ve ever been called Jesus, though.”

 

“You don’t ever stop, do you?” Vanessa gasps, as Charity’s fingers curl inside her, stroking her towards an ending.

 

“I’d have thought stopping would be the last thing you’d want me to do,” Charity coos, slowing her fingers until Vanessa has to hold in a whine in answer.

 

“No, don’t stop,” Vanessa says quickly, her arms tightening around Charity’s shoulders. “Please.”

 

“Are you sure?” Charity asks her softly, the movements of her fingers frustratingly slow now, almost non-existent. “Maybe you’d best tell me what it is you do want then, babe.”

 

“Charity,” Vanessa says weakly, because she can already feel the blush creeping up her neck. She’s not opposed to being this open in bed, but it’s certainly not something she does on a regular basis. She has a sneaking suspicion it might be something Charity could demand though if she was of a mind too, and it’s something Vanessa realises she might not mind at all.

 

“Tell me, Vanessa. I want to hear you say it,” Charity says firmly and there’s steel in amongst the cloying sweetness of her voice that should scream danger to Vanessa, but it only makes Vanessa squirm harder under Charity’s touch until it’s all too much and she just wants relief, the relief that she knows Charity has at her fingertips.

 

“More,” Vanessa sighs finally, her back breaking its contact with the bed, arching up into Charity’s hold. “More, Charity I need more.”

 

“Not so hard, is it?” Charity coos, slipping in another finger, Vanessa’s body welcoming the stretch. “Just asking for what you want? Not so difficult at all.”

 

“You’re insufferable,” Vanessa gasps as Charity picks up a punishing pace, one that makes her struggle for breath as she clenches hard around it.

 

“I know,” Charity replies smoothly as her fingers curl, and Vanessa knows that she’s done for the second the last syllable leaves Charity’s lips.

 

Charity kisses her hard when she comes the first time, swallowing the sound Vanessa makes as she ripples around Charity, as every muscle in her body strains against the onslaught. She’s expecting Charity to slow as the release moves through her, relaxing in anticipation, but she doesn’t. She keeps pushing instead, she keeps thrusting, releasing Vanessa’s voice so she can moan into the darkness around them with a volume that’ll make her blush in the morning, but she doesn’t care now, she doesn’t care about anything, nothing matters beyond the feeling of Charity inside her.

 

She comes back to coherency a few minutes later, as her heart slows, to Charity leaning up on her side next to her, running her index finger over the swell of her breasts, and an almost dazed look on her face as she retains a buzzing contact with Vanessa’s skin.

 

“You really have got a very nice body, you know,” Charity says absently, and Vanessa’s not sure whether she’s completely _here_ , in this bed or somewhere else, until Charity looks up at her with a piercing gaze. “Not many scars for a copper. You must have been a good one, even when you were younger.”

 

“I did alright,” Vanessa replies, disrupting Charity’s touch when she leans on her side to mirror Charity’s positioning. She glances to the neatly bound wound on Charity’s arm before reaching to touch the skin below the bandage. “Does this hurt now? Or are you actually superhuman, and you just don’t feel pain.”

 

“Hurts plenty,” Charity says casually, shrugging as though the pain really is nothing, “but it was worth it,” throwing Vanessa a salacious wink that makes her blood heat again.

 

“Can I do anything?” Vanessa asks before she can help herself, and Charity gives her a quizzical little look before replying.

 

“Do you worry about everyone this much, or just the ones you’re sleeping with,” Charity asks, shaking her head, “actually, don’t answer that, babe. I think I know the answer already.”

 

“So, you don’t need me to tell you that I’d care about you more, if you let me?” Vanessa questions, running her palm down Charity’s forearm, feeling the small bumps of old healed scars beneath her hand.

 

“You don’t have to do that, Vanessa,” Charity replies with a hint of something more distant in her voice, reaching for Vanessa’s hip, pulling her closer. “You don’t have to care, or worry, or any of that sentimental rubbish. This can be simpler than that.”

 

“Do you not care about me?” Vanessa asks with a twinge of hurt, despite the fact that she should know better. There’s a strange juxtaposition in the way Charity’s tugging her closer physically but holding her mentally at an arm's length that’s making her head spin.

 

“If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t be here,” Charity says plainly in answer, her fingers soft and then firmer as they dimple and press into Vanessa’s sides. “I wouldn’t have bothered to orchestrate this whole bloody thing if I didn’t give a toss, would I? I would have just knocked on the door while your sister was here, and left the whole mess in your lap to explain.”

 

Charity’s only repeating the obvious because Vanessa has all that information already in her head, but it’s something, hearing it from her own lips. It’s only confusing the picture her mind is trying to form of Charity though, because she’s ruthless, that much Vanessa knows for a certainty, but she has enough empathy to care about making trouble for Vanessa. _An assassin with a soft side_ , Vanessa thinks with an internal cynical laugh. _How completely ridiculous and daytime movie-esque._

 

“So why won’t you let me care about you, then?” Vanessa asks, allowing Charity to pull her across her own hips so Vanessa’s straddling her.

 

“Vanessa,” Charity drawls with a tired sigh as her hands move over Vanessa’s naked thighs like the distraction will stop Vanessa speaking, or maybe even convince her to change the subject.

 

“Fine,” Vanessa smirks, a plan forming in her head, “if you won’t hear it, then I’ll just have to show you,” she breathes, leaning low against Charity’s body.

 

She presses a series of soft kisses along Charity’s shoulder before sinking her teeth in on the last, because she barely knows a thing about the woman in her bed, but she suspects a gentle hand won’t quite be enough for her here.

 

“Just how do you plan on showing me that?” Charity asks, sounding more than a little interested when Vanessa rises up to look at her again.

 

“You’ll have to wait and see, won’t you?” Vanessa replies with a shrug, dragging her teeth over the swell of Charity’s breast, her hands curled around Charity’s biceps as they hold her body up off the bed.

 

Vanessa allows her eyes to flicker up and catch Charity’s face, her mouth slightly open and her eyes shut as she gives over to Vanessa’s attention, and it’s almost otherworldly just how enthralling Charity is to look at. She’s physicality and sexuality personified, and Vanessa, in all honesty, can’t quite believe she’s actually here with her.

 

“You gonna spend all night staring, babe, or are you actually gonna touch me?” Charity asks, her needy tone snapping Vanessa out of her trance.

 

She shakes her head to clear the fog before tightening her hold around Charity’s arms, flexing her fingers and gripping more firmly, her heart pounding when Charity’s muscles respond, tensing, pushing against her hands.

 

“Do they teach you manners wherever they taught you the rest of this?” Vanessa asks without thinking, but Charity doesn’t falter for a second, throwing Vanessa’s hold off one of her arms, catching Vanessa’s wrist tightly in her hand and forcing Vanessa to shift the weight into her other arm to keep from toppling over.

 

She can feel the strength in Charity’s grip, she can feel the way she draws it from every corner of her body, and she realises in that moment that while she could give Charity a good run for her money, there’s no doubting she’s much stronger than Vanessa. _So_ much stronger.

 

Charity just smirks as Vanessa watches almost curiously at the show of strength before allowing Vanessa to press her arm back to the softness of the bed, and she understands the purpose of the demonstration, that Charity knows she’s stronger than Vanessa, but it doesn’t matter here, she’s not going to use it. Not now, anyway.

 

“Course they did, babe,” Charity replies, settling onto her back again. She wriggles beneath Vanessa’s thighs until she finds the right spot before letting her body go slack. “That’s why I got you off first.”

 

“Charming,” Vanessa deadpans, but it is, in a strange way: charming. Almost everything about Charity is, in actuality.  

 

“You asked,” Charity shrugs, but Vanessa cuts her off before she can say anything else, the urge to kiss her so overwhelming that she can’t help but crash their lips together, humming when Charity pushes her tongue against Vanessa’s hungrily.

 

“Not impatient are you?” Vanessa asks smartly, feeling Charity’s abdomen tense, and the muscles roll, beneath her.

 

“You have no idea,” Charity replies, a flash of something dangerous in her eyes that only turns Vanessa on more.

 

Her hand slides down Charity’s stomach before Vanessa can even think of trying to drag this out, trying to play hard to get, because Charity is here and real and wanting, and she knows they’re on borrowed time.

 

“You any good with those hands?” Charity asks as Vanessa slips the stolen lace on Charity’s hips down and off, leaning up on her elbows to watch.

 

“You can tell me in a minute,” Vanessa replies smartly. She’s no lothario, but she knows what she’s doing, enough that she moves to touch Charity with a confidence only buoyed by the noise she makes when her fingers slip against Charity’s core.

 

“That I can, babe,” Charity breathes, dropping onto her back at the prompt of Vanessa’s touch, canting her hips towards Vanessa’s hand. “I hope your neighbours are deaf, or these walls are thick by the way.”

 

“Loud, are you?” Vanessa asks, her touch exploratory, testing what Charity responds to more sharply, listening for the gasp of pleasure to tell her that she’s on the right track.

 

“When I’m enjoying myself,” Charity replies, jerking her hips as Vanessa’s thumb brushes past her clit.

 

“Well,” Vanessa says with a deep exhale, laying herself long against Charity’s body so they’re touching completely, leaving just enough space for her to move her hand freely. “I’d better get to work then, hadn’t I?”

 

-

 

**End/Two.**

 

(It’s not too far to carry this. I can still bear the weight.) 

 

-


	3. three.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vanessa discovers more about Charity's past, and Charity's sleepover doesn't go exactly to plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more to go after this chapter. Almost a light-hearted read, this one. What a shame it all has to turn to custard...

-

 

**Three.**

 

Would it kill you if we kissed. If we loved, if I missed.

 

-

 

The bed is empty when Vanessa opens her eyes, and for a moment she’s terrified that the whole thing has all been a dream, until she rolls over and feels the muscles across her entire body protest sharply enough for her breath to catch.

 

She lifts the sheet up, taking note of the fact that she’s sleeping completely naked, something she doesn’t normally do, and that there appears to be a blush of deep purple right the way up her inner thighs.

 

_Definitely not a dream_ , Vanessa thinks as a rush of relief finds her.

 

It’s replaced quickly by a slight stab of disappointment as she looks at the clock, catching it read five a.m. and wondering when Charity slipped away until she strains her ears and realises that she can hear the shower running. She throws the covers back, grabbing the robe Charity had donned last night from the floor, folding the tie across her stomach and padding barefoot towards the bathroom.

 

It’s not overly steamy in the small room when she pushes the door open, just light enough for Vanessa to realise that Charity probably hasn’t been in here long. She thinks about clearing her throat or something to catch Charity’s attention, but the slight creak of the hinge does that for her.

 

“I was hoping you might join me before I slip off,” Charity says with a broad grin, peering at Vanessa through the stream of the shower.

 

“Thought you were staying put here?” Vanessa frowns, and it’s ridiculous, but she feels slightly hurt at being blown off after Charity had guaranteed them a few days together.

 

“I’ll be back later,” Charity says vaguely, “if you want me that is, but something’s come up today,” she adds, shaking her hair out down her back, rinsing Vanessa’s shampoo from it. “Anyway, don’t you have work?”

 

“Thinking of playing hooky, actually,” Vanessa says, leaning against the door frame. “Thought I’d take advantage of having the house to myself.”

 

“Oh, that mean I can slip back for a quick afternoon shag, then?” Charity asks brightly, and Vanessa rolls her eyes but she can’t deny the throb of excitement it wrings in her regardless. Because there’s a delicious burn to her entire body today that Charity is entirely responsible for, and she has a feeling that last night was only a small sampling of what Charity can actually do in bed.

 

Her mind drifts as her hand presses against her throat where she knows there will be another series of love bites to match the ones on her thighs, and through the water she can _just_ see a similar set of marks on Charity’s body. It feels surprisingly easy, this: waking up to Charity in her house. It’s not awkward or hard or anything but oddly satisfying.

 

“If this is all too domestic for you though,” Charity says, filling the silence when Vanessa doesn’t, “I can just slip in later. Or not at all. Your call, babe.”

 

“I was just thinking how nice it was, actually,” Vanessa admits honestly, because she doesn’t see any reason not to be open with Charity about it. There’s really nothing to lose, after all.  

 

“Fancy playing married, do you?” Charity asks, seemingly surprised that Vanessa isn’t pulling away, and Vanessa’s not sure if that’s because she’s genuinely pleased, or if it’s all just part of her game.

 

“I don’t think married people have sex like that,” Vanessa deadpans, trying to stop her traitorous heart from swooping in her chest every time Charity looks at her.

 

“Never let marriage stop me before,” Charity says with a shrug, “maybe I should marry you just to prove it.”

 

“Or maybe you should just make room in that shower instead,” Vanessa says because this is dangerous, imagining any form of a future with Charity, because Vanessa knows that no matter how strong their connection, anything more than this _can’t_ happen.

 

“Plenty of room, babe,” Charity hums, watching Vanessa carefully, like she can see right into Vanessa’s mind, and knows exactly why she’s changed the subject so neatly.

 

She doesn’t say anything though, she just pushes Vanessa’s robe off before pulling Vanessa into the cubicle with her, pressing her neatly against the wall.

 

“Are you really this insatiable?” Vanessa asks as Charity sinks to her knees, her hands sliding down the outside of Vanessa’s thighs, urging them apart as she does so.

 

“Only when there’s something I want, Vanessa,” Charity says with a growl before her mouth connects hot and warm over Vanessa’s core and her head hits the tiled wall of the shower with a dull _thud_.

 

Her tongue is eager, and Vanessa feels her knees weaken even before Charity really sets to work but Charity locks her arms straight, hands on either side of Vanessa’s thighs, holding her steady enough that Vanessa can release her breath in a heavy rush.

 

_Only when there’s something I want_ sounds ominous enough for Vanessa to lose thought to it for a second, because what happens when Vanessa isn’t what she wants anymore.

 

Charity’s hands tighten over her skin, the water running over her hands where they press into her flesh, rivulets sliding alongside the pronounced veins in Charity’s hands, and as though she can read Vanessa’s hesitation in the tension in her body, Charity readjusts her grip before looking up and locking eyes with her.

 

Charity’s gaze is piercing even through the steam and noise and furore in Vanessa’s brain telling her to run, and she whispers to the inside of Vanessa’s thigh something that locks Vanessa into place, that makes her feel like whatever Charity feels for her isn’t going to waver any time soon, not if that heat in her eyes is honest.

 

Her voice is dull to Vanessa’s ears through the noise of the shower, but Vanessa hears it anyway, she almost feels Charity spelling the words out to her skin.

 

“And you, Vanessa Woodfield, I want very, very much.”

 

-

 

There’s a quiet knock on the back door just as Vanessa finishes her dinner, not enough to startle her because she’s been waiting for it all evening, but enough to make her heart beat faster because she knows exactly who it is.

 

“I was gonna bring dinner, but I didn’t know if that would make you flip out?” Charity says with a smirk, holding up a bottle of the most expensive champagne Vanessa’s ever seen in her life. “Thought I’d bring this instead.”

 

“I didn’t know if I should make you a serving either,” Vanessa laughs, gesturing to the leftover food on the bench as she locks the backdoor behind Charity. “There’s food though, if you haven’t already eaten.”

 

“Not really hungry for food, but I’d die for a glass of bubbles if you want to crack this open?” Charity says, setting the champagne down in favour of stretching out her injured arm, wincing when she over-reaches and something pulls.

 

“Don’t suppose you miraculously got that seen to today, did you?” Vanessa asks as she rises out of her chair, fetching two champagne flutes before starting on the top of the bottle.

 

“Why bother? Had a very attentive nurse last night, didn’t I?” Charity replies with a suggestive smile. Vanessa rolls her eyes as she pours the wine before Charity snatches the glass up, holding it high. “Cheers, babe. To another quiet evening, eh?”

 

Vanessa glares at her over the top of her glass, but she can’t help smiling when Charity wiggles her eyebrows, annoyed at herself at how easily Charity’s able to make her feel like this could be sustainable.

 

Charity reaches forward across the table, clinking her glass against Vanessa’s before tipping her head back and taking a big swig, the muscles in her neck rippling as she does so, making Vanessa’s throat suddenly feel painfully dry.

 

“What do you say we finish this in bed?” Charity asks with a wink, taking a step towards Vanessa so they’re touching at the hip, wrapping her arm around Vanessa’s lower back. “Think it might taste even better if I drink it off of you, don’t you?”

 

“Is your mind constantly attuned to only sex?” Vanessa asks, but it’s just a complaint for the sake of it, because the thought of Charity, in bed, drinking wine out of the hollow of her throat, is almost too distracting for words.

 

“When I’m in the same room as you? Yes,” Charity affirms, nodding, sending a rush of perfume into the air between them. “Although I wouldn’t mind a bit of small talk too, come to that. Be nice to hear a bit about you that’s not information someone else has pulled for me, eh?”

 

“Wait, have you got a file on me?” Vanessa asks sharply, frowning as she pulls away from Charity. Only slightly though, because even annoyed she can’t make herself put more than a few inches between them.

 

“It’s a secret one, babe. Don’t fuss,” Charity replies as though it’s nothing in the world to have a file of illegally obtained information on someone. “Just wanted to know a bit about you, didn’t I?”

 

“I want to see that folder,” Vanessa says with a scowl, but she’s already dragging Charity towards the stairs. Her heart swoops when Charity reaches out to snatch the bottle of champagne off the table, tucking the neck of it between her fingers neatly next to the stem of her wine glass. “What are we celebrating, by the way?”

 

“Don’t need an excuse to share a decent bottle of wine with a gorgeous woman, do you?” Charity answers, tugging Vanessa closer to her when they reach the landing. She leans in for a kiss, her lips just brushing Vanessa’s when they both hear a key turn in the lock of the front door.

 

They freeze as one entity, neither of them breathing until Tracy’s voice fills the entranceway. “Only me,” she yells up the stairs, and Vanessa looks to Charity desperately.

 

“I thought you said she’d be away for a few days?” Vanessa hisses to Charity as she slips her phone out of her pocket, staring at the screen long enough for Vanessa to see three messages from an unknown number.

 

“That’ll be the heads up she’s on her way,” Charity says with a shrug before glancing up to Vanessa. “Too bloody distracting aren’t you?”

 

“Can we do this later?” Vanessa asks desperately, pulling Charity back towards her bedroom. “Can you just-“

 

“V, are you upstairs?” Tracy calls, and Vanessa can hear the creak of her foot on the stairs just as she manages to push a scowling Charity back into her room, hastily shutting the door.

 

“Yeah, I’m up here,” Vanessa replies, before realising with an abject horror that she’s still holding her wine glass. There’s no time to hide it so she tries to move her sluggish brain, still fixed on the caress of Charity’s lips, quick enough to think of some sort of excuse before Tracy rounds the top of the stairs.

 

“Hello, stranger,” Tracy says brightly, smiling at Vanessa for a second before she notes the glass of wine in her hand. “How are yo- do you have someone here?”

 

“Yes, I do actually,” Vanessa deadpans, narrowing a look at her sister that she hopes passes for something like annoyance, so Tracy will push this as little as possible. Distantly, she wonders how long Charity will wait before she exits stage-left out the window.

 

“Vanessa,” Tracy gasps, sounding mildly impressed, before her smile falls sharply. “Wait, it’s not-“

 

“No, it’s someone completely different, thank you,” Vanessa replies smartly, “and I’m sure she’s wondering what the hell I’m doing out here, instead of in there with her.”

 

She’s not expecting the lie to feel so dirty, but it does. She doesn’t even skip a step though, because all she actually wants, morality be damned, is to get rid of her sister and walk directly into Charity’s arms on the other side of her bedroom door.

 

“By all means,” Tracy gestures back to the door, seemingly convinced and thankfully not remotely suspicious. “I only popped home to pick up a few things but I think I’ll be back tomorrow night, so enjoy your night tonight, yeah?”

 

“Tomorrow?” Vanessa asks, trying desperately to keep the disappointment out of her voice. “I thought you’d be longer?”

 

“Jeez, don’t sound so gutted,” Tracy says with a frown. “I thought it would be too but something happened, and they’ve had to wrap everything up a bit quicker than normal.”

 

“No, I didn’t mean that,” Vanessa begins, shaking her head with a grimace, “course I want you home, I-“

 

“Just thought you’d have a bit more time to have a touch of fun,” Tracy says with a smirk. “I get it. Speaking of which, you should probably…. you know…. get back to it. I’ll let myself out, yeah?”

 

“Thanks, Trace,” Vanessa replies, sighing in relief, leaning forward to kiss Tracy cheek in goodbye.

 

She realises her mistake as soon as she’s close, because Tracy’s nose wrinkles at the subtly familiar smell of Charity’s perfume, obviously fused somehow with Vanessa or her clothing.

 

“Ness, are you sure that’s not-“ Tracy asks, her brow deeply furrowed. Vanessa’s blood freezes before they hear a car horn toot outside, and Tracy sighs heavily. “I’ve got a bloody driver with me, and he’s about as impatient as a three-year-old,” she growls in explanation, before turning back to Vanessa. “Be careful, please? If it is her?”

 

“I’m always careful, Trace,” Vanessa says slowly, seriously, but Tracy sees straight through it.

 

“You were, before her,” Tracy replies with a sad smile. “I’m not saying she’s bad for you, V, cause you’re a grown-up, but… just be careful. Please. For me.”

 

The car horn toots again and Tracy bellows an _alright, I’ll be down in a minute_ to the foot of the stairs, even though it’s completely pointless, before rushing off to her room to grab a handful of things. She stops still to look at Vanessa one last time, squeezing her arm in passing before she thumps down the stairs and out the front door, slamming it shut behind her.

 

Charity is naked on her bed, only the top sheet partially covering her when Vanessa opens the door after taking a few deep breaths outside it.

 

Her eyes follow the long lines of Charity’s body with a soundless adoration as she leans against the solid wood at her back, from the carved toned line running up her thigh, to the lean muscles in her arms as she grips her wine glass casually, lowering her head from taking a sip.

 

“Didn’t know if you’d be here when I opened the door,” Vanessa says slowly, not bothering to hide the blatant way she takes the sight in front of her, in.

 

“Thought about doing a bunk, but it seemed a waste of a good bottle of wine, so,” Charity says, gesturing to her naked body. “Here I am.”

 

“Bit risky, don’t you think?” Vanessa remarks, slightly annoyed by Charity’s carelessness, even though she has no justification to be because this is _exactly_ who Charity is: careless. “What if Tracy had come in?”

 

“She would have got an eye-full, wouldn’t she?” Charity shrugs before sighing at Vanessa’s frown. “Look, just come here, will you? I knew you wouldn’t let her in here, and I thought this might perk you up and stop that worry-line reappearing, but that seems to have backfired, hasn’t it.”

 

Charity’s holding her hand out to Vanessa now, having set the glass on the bedside table, and she looks like one of the Greek statues that Vanessa remembers studying as a college student. It feels surreal, the moment, and she drops her head back with a loud groan, cursing her own foolishness.

 

“God, what am I _doing_ ,” Vanessa says, to herself or to Charity or to the void, she’s not sure. All she does know is that she’s already reaching for Charity’s hand, dropping her glass next to Charity’s so Charity can pull her into a tangle of limbs, pinning her to the bed with a combination of her own strength and the twisted sheet around her.

 

“You’re here with me, babe,” Charity replies sweetly, plucking the buttons of Vanessa’s shirt open, her lips grazing the skin as she reveals it. “And you’re going to let me fuck you senseless until you stop worrying about everything.”

 

“Don’t know if even _you’re_ that good,” Vanessa grumbles when Charity pushes her shirt open fully, gasping when Charity rakes her nails across Vanessa’s bare stomach.

 

“Course I’m that good,” Charity replies smugly as Vanessa arches up into her hands, pushing her bra up and off her breasts messily, taking Vanessa’s nipple between her teeth. “Give me five minutes, Vanessa, and I’ll prove it to you.”

 

-

 

“Are you ever going to tell me what your last name is?” Vanessa asks sometime in the early morning, when Charity’s busy playing with her hands, squeezing the tip of Vanessa’s fingers between her thumb and forefinger.

 

It’s remarkably relaxing actually, and Vanessa can feel herself desperately clinging to consciousness as the easy intimacy of it threatens to tip her into sleep.

 

Charity looks at her with a narrowed eye, and Vanessa can feel her toying with the idea of answering or not. “If you laugh I’ll leave this bed immediately and not ever come back, do you understand me?” Charity says seriously, and Vanessa laughs before nodding.

 

“I promise,” Vanessa agrees solemnly. “Cross my heart.”

 

“Remember you fancied the pants off of me before, alright?” Charity says with a heavy sigh.

 

“It can’t be that bad, can it?” Vanessa smirks, closing her eyes briefly against the feeling of Charity linking their fingers together and squeezing her hand.

 

“Dingle,” Charity says, groaning deeply as she turns away from Vanessa without releasing her hand. “It’s Dingle, alright?”

 

“Look, if you don’t _want_ me to know because then I’ll actually know who you are, then fine,” Vanessa replies, rolling her eyes as she tries to tug Charity back towards her, “but at least-“

 

“It’s actually Dingle, you cow,” Charity says with a frown, squeezing Vanessa’s hand sharply. “That’s my real name.”

 

“Dingle?” Vanessa asks incredulously. The corner of her mouth turns up in a smile before she realises that she’d promised a more controlled reaction. “I mean-“

 

“Yes, I know, it’s hideously stupid, thank you,” Charity scowls, and she moves to pull away but Vanessa holds tight onto her hand.

 

“I think it’s fitting,” Vanessa smiles, tugging Charity forward so she can speak against her lips. “A unique name for a ludicrously unique woman. And that’s a compliment, before you take it any other way.”

 

“Walking a thin bloody line, you are,” Charity says with a growl, and Vanessa’s heart beats faster because she knows that she is, with _all_ of this.

 

“I think you like it that way,” Vanessa replies a little daringly, and she watches Charity’s grin deepen in response, kissing her before they fall into a soft silence again. They stay that way for a long time until the question that’s been gnawing at Vanessa since they first met finally overwhelms her and slips out.

 

“Why do you do it?”

 

Charity’s gaze drops to hers and Vanessa feels hot all of a sudden like the visual attention is capable of physically burning her, and she almost regrets asking, ready to apologise and take it back when Charity finally answers her.

 

“Because I’m good at it,” she says plainly, after a moment, looking Vanessa dead in the eye.

 

“I don’t think it’s as simple as that,” Vanessa replies carefully. “Because you seem to be good at a lot of things. How many languages can you speak? What else can you do that I don’t know about that you could have pursued a career in?”

 

“The money’s very, very good too, babe,” Charity laughs and Vanessa sighs in exasperation, about ready to abandon the conversation if Charity isn’t actually going to reveal anything particularly deep or meaningful.

 

“Do you like it?” Vanessa asks instead of dropping it, grimacing, because it’s something she’s been wondering about for a while now, and she’s not sure she wants to know the answer, but she knows that she needs to ask. “Is that what it is?”

 

“When I do it the way I do, yeah,” Charity admits, and Vanessa’s heart stops in her chest, “I do like it, in a way.”

 

“What do you mean, the way you do it?” Vanessa asks tentatively, on the verge of regretting having raised anything at all.

 

“You’ve obviously not looked into any kind of pattern, have you?” Charity sighs, like she’s put out about something.

 

“What do you mean, pattern?” Vanessa questions, frowning. She’s not sure why, but the weight on her chest feels eased a little at Charity’s obvious annoyance.

 

“The jobs I take, I pick them carefully, Vanessa,” Charity explains, running her index finger along the tendon in Vanessa’s inner wrist. “They’re never women, and they’re never men who didn’t deserve it.”

 

“Are you trying to tell me you’ve got some sort of moral code to killing people?” Vanessa asks a little incredulously.

 

“I dunno, you tell me. You’re the one putting a label on it,” Charity replies with a moody shrug.

 

“How do you decide if they deserve it?” Vanessa asks carefully, conscious of the fact that she can feel Charity on the outer edge of tolerance, of turning away and shutting this conversation down in the blink of an eye.

 

“I’ve got a typical sob story, babe,” Charity returns with a huff, sitting up in bed completely, scooting back so she can lean against the headboard.

 

Vanessa isn’t sure if she should follow her, so she stays curled up in the sheets somewhere around Charity’s knees as she continues.

 

“Abusive childhood, teenage pregnancy, kicked out of home when I was a kid, turned tricks to keep myself alive, you know the one?” Charity says flippantly, throwing a vague hand in the air. “Sure you come across it every other day, yeah? I was different from the other girls though, I was always good at hurting people before they could hurt me, and it helped, kept me alive longer than some of the others. Then I met someone who saw a different kind of potential in me.”

 

“And they, what?” Vanessa asks quietly, hesitant to speak but completely intrigued. “They trained you?”

 

“Gave me a place of my own, a bank account with more money in it than I could spend, and I didn’t even have to sell myself to keep it,” Charity laughs, chasing it with a glare that’s hard enough to make the blood drain from Vanessa’s face. “I know exactly what you’re thinking, eh?” Charity says cynically, “what’s the difference, I’m still selling some part of myself, even if it’s not what’s between my legs. But don’t you dare think for a second that offing someone who deserves it is anywhere near as hard as having someone treat you like a pound of flesh, because it’s not, Vanessa.”

 

“I wouldn’t ever assume to know-“ Vanessa begins, but Charity cuts her off.

 

“Course you would,” Charity says dismissively. “Everyone always does, it’s human nature to, but it’s not the same. They gave me everything I could ever ask for, and all I had to was make the world a better place by taking out the trash.”

 

“There’s another way to find justice though, you know that, don’t you?” Vanessa asks as the hair on the back of her neck stands to attention. “That’s what people like me are for?”

 

“Look, you might be good at your job, Ness, but you’re one in a million. Where do you think half my customers used to come from? Sometimes they didn’t even bother taking off the bloody uniform, that’s how cocky they were. That’s how confident they were that they could get away with it,” Charity says, and it makes Vanessa feel sick because she knows it’s not a lie, what Charity’s insinuating, or an over exaggeration. Charity exhales deeply before she shakes her head and continues. “Besides, jail? That’s not justice, babe. It’s not. Making them feel as terrified as they made us feel? That’s justice.”

 

“That’s vengeance,” Vanessa grimaces. Her stomach rolls sickly at the expression carved into Charity’s features. It’s war-wary and dangerous and unflinching.

 

“They don’t have to be mutually exclusive,” Charity returns with a hard look. “I don’t expect you to understand, Vanessa, I don’t. We’re from completely different worlds, even if your dad was who he was.”

 

“I don’t understand, but I’d…” Vanessa starts, trailing off before she gathers her wits and a hint of courage. “I’d like to.”

 

“No, you don’t,” Charity replies and it’s not dismissive, it’s just sad. “Maybe a professionally curious part of you does. Or the part that’s attracted to the dangerous part of me. But you don’t really, that I promise you.”

 

“Don’t make an assumption, listen to me,” Vanessa says firmly, leaning up on her knees to look Charity in the eye. “If I tell you I want something, I want it. I’m not trying to appease you, or pity you, or give you what I think you want, just for the sake of it. We’re both far too old and far too jaded for that.”

 

“Are you sure you know what you’re actually asking for?” Charity questions plainly as she pushes a piece of hair back behind her ear. “Because there’s not a day’s break of sun in my past, babe. There’s no happy ending. This doesn’t lead to some magic fix, this is it.”

 

It almost knocks the wind from Vanessa, and she realises that she’s forgotten already. So easily she’s forgotten that this can’t actually morph from some sob story to a fairytale. She wonders whether Charity forgets too, whether she wishes they could, or whether she’s the pragmatist Vanessa knows she’ll never be, not with this.

 

She’s fallen for Charity, head over heels. In spite of her rigid moral compass, and her past, and her present, and her common sense: she’s fallen hard, and it makes her feel dizzy because this - this whole thing - is nothing more than a completely lost cause. A disaster waiting to happen. An inevitable flash fire that Vanessa doesn’t know she’ll make it out of.

 

She knows all of that, and yet she reaches for Charity regardless, because the pull is unstoppable, and Charity is magnetic and Vanessa is addicted, hook, line and sinker.

 

“I know exactly what I’m asking for, and I want it anyway,” Vanessa says, holding Charity’s eye, tipping forward and kissing her thoroughly, knocking a sigh out of both of them.

 

She knows that Charity’s thinking exactly the same thing that she is when they pull apart from each other; that this is dangerous and might well be fatal, but they’re far too far past the point of no return to change anything now.

 

They come together desperately like the _snap_ of a magnet, and they take each other hard, like the devil is on their heels and they’ll burst into flames if it catches them. Charity pushes her until her muscles burn and Vanessa’s brain is nothing but fog with the scent of her interwoven through it, until Vanessa’s voice is hoarse from screaming her name.

 

They collapse against each other after, breathing like they’ve run a five-mile sprint, and Vanessa’s whole body aches almost painfully, but then she looks to Charity, and it feels like touching a battery, the connection instant and unsuppressibly electric.

 

So they start over.

 

-

 

Charity’s gone when Vanessa wakes, and she understands why when she hears Tracy’s voice downstairs, talking on the phone to someone Vanessa assumes to be Paddy, briefing them on her last few days.

 

She rolls over and looks to her bedside clock, shocked to find it read almost ten a.m. panicking before she remembers that it’s a Saturday today, and she doesn’t have to be anywhere at all.

 

Vanessa’s not surprised to find an empty expanse beside her, but she is disappointed, having half-hoped Charity might be here in the morning so they could talk a little more, even though she knows full well that the more she knows about Charity, the harder and dirtier this whole mess will become. She can’t help it though, she knows it’s useless to resist it, because there’s a distinctly addictive quality to Charity that Vanessa only realises now she’s been fighting since the first time they met.

 

No, she can’t stop being disappointed that Charity’s gone, and she can’t stop being hurt that she didn’t say goodbye, and she can’t help being angry that this is all completely her fault for getting far too deeply into something that she has no way of getting out of.

 

Charity’s pillow is heavy with the mix of both of their scents, Vanessa’s shampoo, and the lightly lingering smell of dread, because Vanessa has absolutely no idea what’s going to happen next. She falls heavily onto her back, pulling the covers over her head, wishing so desperately that it would do a sufficient enough job of blocking the world out just long enough for her to have a moment to think.

 

She can still hear Tracy talking downstairs though, and she needs quiet, so as much as her body protests the mere idea, she throws the covers off, swings her legs out of bed and walks over to the walk-in-robe. She pulls on her running gear quickly, trying to get her bare skin covered before the winter cold reaches it, pulling her shoes on before heading down the stairs.

 

Tracy turns from her spot at the table when she hears Vanessa step into the kitchen, and Vanessa feels her blood run cold, mid-way through tying her hair up into a tight ponytail on top of her head, at the look on Tracy’s face.

 

“What’s wrong?” Vanessa asks evenly, her hands dropping to her sides, her fingertips brushing the bare skin at the edge of her running shorts nervously.

 

“There’s a problem, V,” Tracy replies with a grimace. “Someone saw her. Near here. Paddy said one of the officers on duty last night recognised her from your sketch when he was driving back to the station from a call out.”

 

It feels like the world has reduced itself to a tiny pinpoint around her as Tracy speaks, and she doesn’t know what to say for a moment until her common sense comes dripping slowly back.

 

“It won’t stick,” Vanessa replies, and it’s a flimsy response, they both know it, but it doesn’t stop Vanessa from trying to justify it regardless. “It’ll disappear just like everything else does.”

 

“What if it doesn’t, babe?” Tracy returns with a serious look on her face and a deep line between her eyes. “What if it doesn’t and someone starts to join the dots? Look, I’m not gonna give you an ultimatum, but I think you need to think about this. Seriously. Not just for your sake, or mine, or our careers, but for her too. If this is more than a casual shag, think about her too.”

 

“I will,” Vanessa replies as the dread she had tasted in bed settles with a metallic sickness in her stomach. “I will, Trace. I just need to clear my head.”

 

“Do you want me to come with you?” Tracy asks, her voice gentler than before, gesturing to Vanessa’s attire. “I don’t care how long we run for.”

 

“Thanks,” Vanessa returns with a half-smile, prepared to justify her much-needed solitude, “but I think I need-“

 

“It’s alright, V,” Tracy says to her, the pity in the air between them almost visible, at the decision Tracy knows Vanessa has to make now. “I’ll see you in a bit, yeah?”

 

Vanessa gives her a little nod before she turns and makes for the door, but she doesn’t bother to reply or say anything else beyond that.

 

She raises her hands overhead after she pushes the door shut behind her, stretching out tall as she walks down the path onto the road, breathing in the cold mid-morning air. She takes a few quick steps before breaking into a run, and she doesn’t plan on coming back until she can’t run a second longer but she peels off into a sprint anyway, until the muscles in her legs are screaming at her, and her lungs are burning, and she can’t hear anything but the sound of her own footfalls and her breath.

 

Her mind doesn’t leave Charity for a second even with the exertion, not one, and she’s no closer to peace when she collapses onto her bed hours later, when her whole body is spent and her legs feel like jelly.

 

She’s stuck. Weighed down by her own bloody heart.

 

And _still_ she doesn’t want to change a thing.

 

-

 

She doesn’t expect to see Charity for a few weeks, and she doesn’t. There’s not a single sign, just like before.

 

Tracy watches her carefully, out of concern and not surveillance, but she doesn’t say anything more to Vanessa about Charity, and Vanessa is immensely thankful for that. She makes a conscious effort not to let her grief at Charity’s absence show, and she thinks she does a better job of it than last time, because Tracy’s worry lessens after a while, until it’s barely there at all.

 

Any formal record of the sighting disappears from their systems, and Vanessa urges Paddy not to follow it any further, not to push, and she does so ardently because she’s reasonably confident of what will happen if he does.

 

So he drops it. And things find an old equilibrium. Everything’s almost normal again.

 

And then it’s not.

 

-

 

The first sign of her comes two months after Charity had left in the middle of the night.

 

Vanessa comes home late from an extra shift to a quiet house, something she’s taken to doing with an increasing frequency to keep her mind busy, Tracy already fast asleep upstairs.

 

The light in her bedroom is set to a dim glow when she walks in, something she makes a mental note to thank Tracy for in the morning, and she’s so tired that she almost misses the small wrapped box sitting in the middle of her neatly-made bed.

 

She shrugs her bag off her shoulder, dropping down to the bed and reaching for the package. It’s bigger than the palm of her hand, and it’s heavy, and she feels her heart stop when she catches the scent coming off of the ribbon tied around the box.

 

Charity’s perfume. It’s Charity’s perfume, she’s sure of it.

 

Vanessa looks around the room quickly, searching for any sign that she might still be here but the room feels cold, empty but for her. She’s reasonably certain that Charity’s long gone, but she gets up off the bed, walking through the wardrobe to check for her, regardless. Finding nothing she crawls back onto the bed, pulling the package towards her, pulling the card tucked beneath the ribbon out carefully, first. It’s plain, just a heavy white stock, nothing on the front or back, and Vanessa’s half expecting the inside to be empty too, but it’s not, and she opens it with a jolt to find Charity’s slightly messy handwriting inside.

  


_Quite like your watch so I think I’ll keep it._

_Here’s a replacement._

_C x_

  


Vanessa frowns, confused for a moment until she realises the small package is likely a watch box. She pulls the thick white wrapping off, revealing pretentiously expensive packaging with the word _Rolex_ on the top of the box. She flips the box open, almost expecting something ridiculous and flashy to reveal itself, but the watch sitting neatly on a pillow inside is not even remotely that.

 

It’s simple and understated and classy and perfect, frankly. She couldn’t have chosen a better option for herself if she tried.

 

She picks it up, feeling the pleasantly heavy weight to it in her hand, glancing at the size of the metal bracelet and realising with a thrill that Charity appears to have had it sized to fit her wrist. She glances to the back of the watch, just seeing an engraved _V.W_ in the metal before she slips it on her wrist. She snaps the clasp closed to find that the fit is perfect, just enough room for it to slide a little on her wrist, the exact same size the old watch that Charity’s adopted as her own had been.

 

Vanessa turns her wrist towards the light, watching the yellow warmth of the lamp glow over the silver of the case and band and the white of the watch face.

 

Its appearance only makes things infinitely more difficult, in spite of the simultaneous relief she feels at having received some sign of Charity finally. Because she hadn’t half started to wonder if it would ever happen, Charity making herself known to Vanessa again, and there’s a simplicity and a peace in her not having to make any kind of decision as to whether she pursues this or not, if Charity’s the one to make it for them. Vanessa’s not sure that would be enough though. She’s not sure whether she’d be happy with that in the long term, or whether she would start to seek Charity out herself, even knowing she’d probably be near impossible to find.

 

It’s an unmistakably romantic gesture though, the watch, irrespective of anything else, and Vanessa can’t quite make sense of it. It could, of course, be a trap. It could be bugged, or something more devious, but something about it feels less malignant than that. It feels simpler. Like it really is just a gift.

 

It’s a clever gift too, because it’s almost close enough in appearance to Vanessa’s old one that Tracy won’t likely realise they’re even different unless she physically picks this one up. It’s close enough that Vanessa could probably get away with wearing it if she was feeling bold enough to deal with the consequences of Tracy realising they were different at some point.

 

Vanessa slips it off, resting it back in the case so she can shower and wash the day from herself, but she can’t resist trying it on one last time before she lays her head down.

 

If she closes her eyes she could pretend the cold wrapping around her skin was Charity’s hands, frozen from climbing into her window up a cold metal pipe, not the watch band, and it’s ridiculous but it’s _just_ enough to stop her from taking it off before she slips into sleep.   


-  


There’s radio silence for another month after the watch arrives, and Vanessa thinks she might just go mad if she doesn’t hear a word from her soon.

 

It would have been better to not have received the gift, she thinks half the time, because she might have been able to think about perhaps giving this whole thing up with that long a break in contact, but the watch _means_ something. Vanessa knows it wasn’t just a parting gift, she’s not sure how, but she does, which means Charity had planned on finding her way back to Vanessa again.

 

But she hasn’t. And Vanessa’s beginning to get frustrated about it. About the lack of certainty. About the lack of anything. And she knows she has no justification to be pissed off, because she knows what this is, she knows full-well they’d never agreed to any kind of relationship parameters whatsoever, but she is regardless.

 

It’s a month without anything, a month that passes so slowly Vanessa’s about ready to burn the calendar in the kitchen, just to stop it taunting her. And then Vanessa takes a call at the end of a shift she was never supposed to be on in the first place, and everything changes.

 

-

 

**End/Three.**

 

We’ve gotta put this to bed. Or the ground. Whichever comes first.

 

-


	4. four.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything comes undone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hold onto your butts. 
> 
> (Classic Jurassic Park reference, kudos to you if you recognised that). 
> 
> Enjoy, dear readers. And remember, I'm very fond of a happy ending... 
> 
> Also don't hate me for splitting up this last chapter either. This'll be a five-part fic now. Be thankful I didn't end it after the first scene though, because I very nearly did for a bit of suspense.

-

 

**Four.**

 

We all go the same way, love. With one last breath.

 

-

 

Vanessa’s tired, but the colleague she takes the shift off looks dead on her feet, so Vanessa volunteers to take it off her hands to allow her to head home to her family, in exchange for a weekend off. Not a bad compromise, Vanessa thinks as she drives through an extremely quiet and cold London, sometime after eleven at night on a Wednesday evening after finishing the shift.

 

She’s not too far from home when the radio crackles and dispatch comes over the speakers, alerting Vanessa to some kind of domestic disturbance in a posh riverside apartment complex, about two minutes drive from where she is at present. The dispatch relays that the caller hadn’t been sure if it was anything to be concerned with, but that the disruption had been irregular for the otherwise quiet apartment.

 

Vanessa replies automatically, turning the car around and heading straight in the direction of the complex as dispatch queries whether she’s alright to do so, or whether she’d prefer to leave the call for a unit about five minutes away so she can head home to bed.

 

“I’ll be fine,” Vanessa radios back quickly. “Might not be anything at all, but I’m closer, so I might as well check it out.”

 

She yawns as she throws the car door open after arriving, shaking her head to clear the momentary fatigue as she looks up at the massive building in front of her, taken aback by the architecture and miles of glass windows, before she radios back her position and heads inside to check the situation out.

 

There’s a concierge in the massive foyer, helpfully, that points Vanessa to the elevator, and instructs her on how to find the room in question. She thanks the young man before making her way up to the tenth and second to top floor. There’s no sign of trouble when Vanessa reaches the level, only quiet as she walks carefully towards the apartment, her hearing strained and her body tensed, in preparation for any quick and sudden change.

 

It’s still quiet when Vanessa reaches the apartment, but the door is wide open with no one in sight, something Vanessa takes note of, moving her hand to the taser at her hip as her breath sticks in her throat.

 

It’s not the penthouse apartment, but it’s close enough, Vanessa thinks, even amidst the chaos that the apartment is currently settled in. Everything in her line of sight looks both immensely expensive and completely destroyed: the dining chairs are broken, the table up-ended has a heavy leg missing, the linen of the curtains look torn to shreds. She’s just about to call it in, her heartbeat climbing rapidly, and the hair on the back of her neck standing on end when she sees movement around the corner towards what Vanessa assumes to be the bedroom.

 

“Police,” Vanessa calls firmly, walking towards the groaning female figure on the ground. She’s about to speak again when she turns the corner properly and sees the three dead men in full military uniform around the woman, and the sound dies in her throat.

 

It’s a foreign uniform, not British, but the sight of it is enough for Vanessa to feel the hot spike of fear down her back. She picks the radio up with a slightly shaking hand but her voice stalls when the female figure rolls over onto her back, Vanessa’s mayday call dying in her throat.

 

Because of all the people that could be in this apartment with her right now, of all the people that could be involved, Charity Dingle rises up from the floor, wiping absently at a deep cut over her eye, looking at Vanessa incredulously.

 

“What the bloody hell are you doing here?” Charity asks sharply, swaying as she reaches full height, and for the first time her voice sounds almost worried. “You’re not supposed to be on duty tonight.”

 

She looks like hell, if Vanessa’s honest; her clothes are askew and torn, there’s a dark bruise rising over one of her cheekbones, but she still looks in remarkably better condition than the dead men around her.

 

“Charity?” Vanessa says disbelievingly, her eyes moving from the three men back to Charity. “Did you-“

 

“You’re not supposed to be on duty tonight,” is all that Charity says before Vanessa hears movement behind Charity, and Cain walks out of the bathroom, wiping bloody hands on his black top, stopping immediately when he sees Vanessa in the room.

 

Vanessa can just make out the feet of someone definitely not in military uniform behind him, and everything starts to make sense. He’s the hit, and the men in the room with them were his guards. _Were_ his guards, Vanessa affirms. _Were_. Past tense.

 

“Cain,” she hears Charity say in a dangerous tone, and Vanessa snaps back around, her taser now raised to see the dark-haired man from the gala pointing a gun with a silencer on the end of it, straight at her.

 

Vanessa looks between the two of them slowly, like time is standing still for her to do so, from Cain’s terrifyingly impassive scowl to Charity’s intense frown, realising with a sickening, horrifying jolt that she doesn’t have her vest on.

 

She’d taken it off to drive home and had forgotten to slip it back on before she’d gotten out of the car, too focussed on getting inside the building in the event that the disturbance had been urgent. They’re only stab-proof, the vests, probably not strong enough to stop a bullet from close range like this, but _something_ would be better than the zero protection she has on now.

 

“Cain, no,” Charity says again, stronger this time, louder, raising her own gun that Vanessa hadn’t even noticed in her hand, up to waist height.

 

“No witnesses, Charity,” Cain says coldly, without a hint of emotion. “You know that.”

 

Vanessa hears a loud noise and then another quickly following it - a muffled _bang_ and then another slightly different but similar sound - before she feels a strong punch to the gut. She’s quite removed from the sensation though, from the whole moment, her eyes fixed on the scene across the room instead, looking up to meet Charity’s eyes when she hears a heavy human weight drop to the right of her.

 

She doesn’t even realise she’s been shot until one of her hands comes up to her face with a dark red stain on it, and her taser falls out of the other. It doesn’t begin to hurt until she looks down at the wound and sees the blood. She doesn’t begin to panic until she feels the strength fail in her knees and she falls to the ground, landing on them hard, doubling over, her forehead finding the soft carpet as she tries to take a breath.

 

“Why aren’t you wearing a bloody vest?” Charity asks with a growl as she tosses her gun to the side, rushing to Vanessa, dropping onto her knees too.

 

She rolls Vanessa onto her back quickly, pushing Vanessa’s hands away from her stomach so she can see the extent of the damage, tearing the fabric around the bullet hole before she starts to apply pressure to the wound.

 

“Thank god he’s never had a knack for hitting vital organs,” Charity mumbles as she reaches blindly behind her for the blanket covering the bed, tugging on it sharply so she can use it to apply more pressure. “Vanessa, you need to call this in, now. They need to send paramedics, with units of blood, or you’re not going to make it to the hospital, and if that happens I’m going to bring you back to life just so I can kill you again for being so bloody careless.”

 

“I can’t-“ Vanessa begins, motioning to the receiver and the fact that she can’t apply enough pressure to use it, and Charity sighs before helping so Vanessa can speak into it.

 

She hesitates still, because even through the haze of pain, she knows that the second she does, Charity will need to leave, and get as far away from here as she can. Charity’s eyes are insistent though, so Vanessa croaks out an emergency call before falling back against the floor, letting her eyes flutter closed. She feels Charity push a few loose strands of hair away from her face as soon as she does do, demanding Vanessa look at her, grabbing Vanessa’s chin in a hand sticky with her blood.

 

She has a vague and distant thought about how abjectly horrid that is, and another about telling Charity to grab a wet towel to wipe her hands, something she knows is a very bad sign, because she should be focussed on the pain, and the fact that she’s not isn’t good at all.

 

Vanessa’s wayward musings are interrupted by a groan from the presumed-dead form of Cain, and she jumps in fear before Charity reaches back to him. She stretches her arm out to its fullest extension and thumps him heavily on the chest to knock some alertness into him, before grabbing roughly at the front of his jacket.

 

“Get out of here before the cops arrive and I leave you in a heap for them,” Charity snaps sharply, her fist tightening enough to make him gasp in pain. “If you ever try that crap with her again I’ll make sure I don’t make it a friendly shot next time, and I won’t make it quick either. She’s not a witness, you hear me. She’s special.”

 

Vanessa marvels distantly at her ability to multitask, keeping her alive and stemming the bleeding while threatening her colleague-come-victim, as the edges of her vision start to wobble.

 

“I’ll-“ he grumbles, leaning up on his elbow, but Charity’s quicker, catching him across the jaw, hard, with her fist.

 

“You’ll do _nothing_ ,” Charity growls angrily, watching him as he spits blood to the side. “Or that nice little list of the offspring you’ve been hiding for years, the one you thought you could keep from me, will end up in _their_ lap. She’s off limits. End of story. And if she dies because of this, so help me, Cain, you’d better find a bloody good travel agent and a sturdy pair of running shoes, because you’ll be next.”

 

Cain looks at Charity, his gaze like iron, and for a second, even through her loosening consciousness, Vanessa’s sure he’s going to challenge Charity, she’s _terrified_ that he’s going to fight her, but he doesn’t.

 

He groans heavily instead, pushing himself up and onto his feet, clutching the gunshot wound at his side and loping painfully out of the room, not even bothering with a backwards glance before he disappears down the hallway.

 

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Vanessa says trying to sound lucid, even though she feels a bit drunk. Her words are starting to slur, and the pressure of Charity’s hand doesn’t feel as strong as it did before, but actually, if she tries to concentrate, nothing really does.

 

“Had to happen at some point, babe. You’ve always got to do the awkward ex-meeting, don’t you,” Charity replies with a smirk, but Vanessa can see the worry in her eyes as she looks down to her stomach.

 

“I think you’re only supposed to do that if it’s a serious relationship,” Vanessa says shakily, her whole body trembling with the energy required to speak.

 

“I cannot believe we’re going to have this conversation now, while you’re bleeding out on the floor,” Charity huffs as she shifts the cover over Vanessa’s stomach to a section that hasn’t been bled through. “We had hours in bed for you to hassle me about this, and you’re choosing now, eh? Nothing like a captive audience, I suppose.”

 

“It’s okay,” Vanessa replies with some monumental effort, her hands finding Charity’s weakly. “Don’t worry. I don’t know if I can talk much more. I feel tired.”

 

“Yeah, I know you do, babe, but you’ve gotta stay awake,” Charity says firmly, moving one of her hands to capture Vanessa’s between her own, pancaking them over her wound. “At least until your stupid friends arrive. Come on, Vanessa, keep going. Tell me all about this serious relationship malarkey, then.”

 

“No. You need to go,” Vanessa argues, shaking her head and pushing at Charity’s shoulder with as much strength as she can muster. “You need to leave.”

 

“If I leave, you die, Vanessa,” Charity says simply, not moving a muscle against Vanessa’s objection, and it hits her then how serious this really must be.

 

“If you stay, they’ll catch you,” Vanessa gasps sharply. She can feel the pain again now, building like a crescendo in the middle of her body, overwhelming her, strong enough to make her writhe against Charity’s hand.

 

“Yeah, well, I’ve never broken out of police custody before,” Charity returns, taking her top hand away to push on Vanessa’s shoulder, trying to straighten her frame out. “Probably should have that on my professional resume. Who knows, eh? Might be fun.”

 

“ _Charity_ ,” Vanessa groans dully. She wants to argue but it’s too hard, and she can’t help the thickness in her throat from building either until it spills out, and a few stray tears roll down her cheeks.

 

“I’m not leaving, Vanessa,” Charity says, her voice resolute, her thumb catching a tear as it falls. “I’m not. So you might as well save your breath and talk to me about what else you think constitutes a serious relationship, instead.”

 

“Why?” Vanessa asks, her voice beginning to sound distant to her own ears. “You don’t want me to be your girlfriend, do you? How would that even work?”

 

“I don’t know how to get what I want, babe,” Charity answers her, turning her head briefly to the sound of sirens in the distance. “All I know is that you need to live for any of it to bloody happen.”

 

“Is Charity Dingle soft on me? Good lord, I must already be dead if you’re admitting that,” Vanessa asks with a laugh that makes every cell in her body fire in pain, and she grimaces before Charity eases her onto her back again.

 

“You know what, maybe it’s best you do go, actually. Before you can tell anyone,” Charity growls, but Vanessa only sees half the words come out of her mouth because her eyes close with her next breath, and try as she might, she can’t make them open again.

 

She can hear sirens in the distance but they’re growing fainter and fainter, even though she knows they must be getting closer. She can hear Charity talking more insistently too, can hear panic in her voice as she calls Vanessa’s name again and again, but she can’t summon an ounce of strength to reply.

 

The last thing she hears before she loses consciousness is the sound of Charity’s voice snapping her name one last time ahead of a number of feet rushing into the room, and Charity barking an order at them that she can’t quite make out.

 

She feels Charity’s hands move away from her stomach to her shoulders, her thumbs brushing firmly and soothingly through her shirt, letting Vanessa know that she’s still here as foreign ones replace hers at the wound, but it’s all too far away, and Vanessa’s so, _so_ tired, and everything’s getting foggier, and it’s the easiest thing in the world to give herself over to sleep.

 

-

 

The incessant beeping of something to her left rouses Vanessa eventually, but when she opens her eyes and starts to feel her outer extremities properly, she begins to wish that she hadn’t.

 

There’s a dull painful ache in her gut like someone’s hitting a very big bruise with a paddle, her mouth feels like it’s packed full of cotton wool, and everything is heavy, even her arms, which don’t respond properly when she tries to raise one to her face.

 

“Easy, V,” comes a soft voice, and Vanessa blinks a few times until Tracy comes into focus next to her. “Easy, you’re alright but try not to move.”

 

She attempts to speak but the walls of her throat feel like they’re stuck together, and she winces before Tracy moves quickly, reaching for a cup of water with a little straw in it, offering Vanessa a sip before she puts it down.

 

“Wh-“ Vanessa tries to say, only her throat still feels like it’s full of sap. She coughs, wanting to clear it, wincing sharply when the action aggravates the pain in her stomach.

 

“Stop everything, will you? I’ll explain if you give me half a second and stop hurting yourself,” Tracy offers with a worried expression, her hands moving over Vanessa in a panic. “Oi, excuse me,” she yells to a passing nurse, “I don’t think you’ve got this drip high enough, my sister’s in too much pain.”

 

Someone comes over with a clipboard eventually, checking Vanessa’s vitals, taking a few notes and asking her as simply as possible to describe how bad the pain is before rolling some more morphine through the drip, leaving the two of them to it again with a promise to check back soon.

 

“What happened?” Tracy says rhetorically when the doctor moves away, crossing her arms over her chest in the seat directly next to Vanessa’s bed. “You got yourself bloody shot, Vanessa, that’s what.”

 

The morphine is making her feel slightly cloudy again, but it eases the pain enough for her to see how heavy the circles under Tracy’s eyes are, how deep the worry is between them and how tired she looks. Vanessa mouths a silent _I’m sorry_ to her before Tracy softens, leaning her elbows onto the bed so she can take Vanessa’s hand in hers.

 

“You’ve been asleep for a couple of days, the doctors put you in a medically-induced coma to give your body a bit of a rest and a better chance at healing,” Tracy explains when Vanessa gives her a _continue_ look. “You lost a lot of blood, V. A lot. They said…” Tracy falters for a second, “they said, if you hadn’t had someone there to try and stop the bleeding, you’d have been dead before they could get you back here.”

 

“What about-“ Vanessa croaks, because it’s imperative that she knows about Charity, more so than anything else about herself.

 

“She waited until they arrived,” Tracy replies, and Vanessa can almost hear something like respect in her voice. “She let herself get arrested. Or at least put in cuffs and a car before she slipped them and threw herself out the door while it was moving.”

 

Vanessa’s eyes go wide but Tracy only rolls hers calmly before filling in the gap. “Given they couldn’t find any sign of her, which they would’ve if she’d knocked herself off with the Houdini trick, I think she’s probably okay. Don’t you go fretting, alright, that’s the last thing you need. God, she’s really got balls though, hasn’t she?”

 

Vanessa suppresses a laugh at Tracy’s admission, tensing her stomach to try and nullify the pain, wincing before she looks to Tracy with a half smile.

 

“Jokes aside though, babe, she saved your life,” Tracy says with a hard, serious sigh. “She saved your life and she risked getting thrown in jail to make sure you were alright. Even if you probably got shot because of her.”

 

Vanessa shakes her head in objection, and she knows Tracy’s going to try and cut her off but it’s important that she tell her this. “No,” Vanessa groans quietly, “Cain, her partner or colleague or god knows what, he was there for a job and I walked into the end of it. He shot me to keep me quiet, and then Charity shot him. He’d have finished me off if it wasn’t for her.”

 

“And where was your vest, eh?” Tracy says, scowling, ignoring the additional light on Charity’s character. “Because this would’ve probably been less of a mess if you’d had all your bloody kit on. You never forget that stuff, V, what were you thinking?”

 

“You know what it’s like with domestic callouts,” Vanessa croaks, meeting Tracy’s eye. “You know how urgent they can be. I took it off when I thought I was coming home, and jumped out of the car as quickly as I could when I arrived.”

 

She leans back against the bed when she finishes, exhausted from the exertion of speaking. Tracy helps her have another small sip of water after she gestures for the cup, pushing a few strands of hair off Vanessa’s face when she closes her eyes.

 

“Maybe I was wrong about her,” Tracy says after a moment, and Vanessa cracks one eye open to look at her. “Well, partly,” Tracy continues with a frown, “because that might not have been directly her fault, but I can’t help but feel like you fell into it because of her.”

 

Vanessa sighs heavily, preparing to defend Charity completely when Tracy interjects. “But,” Tracy says firmly, “but, she’s not as heartless as I thought she was. She obviously cares about you, babe. And you’re lying here because she wasn’t selfish enough to run.”

 

“I don’t think she’s a bad person,” Vanessa manages to reply quietly. “Not in her heart. She’s not doing it for fun. There’s reasoning to everything she does. She thinks she’s helping, in a way.”

 

“By killing people?” Tracy asks incredulously. “How’s that then?”

 

“They’re not exactly upstanding citizens, the jobs she takes. She told me. Look into them if you don’t believe me. And they’re only ever men,” Vanessa says before a wave of weariness rolls over her.

 

“You managed to fall into some kind of romantic mess with an assassin who happens to have a moral compass?” Tracy laughs cynically, but the smile she gives Vanessa is soft. “Of course you did. Jesus, only you, Ness.”

 

“Am I going to be okay?” Vanessa asks carefully, slowly testing the sensation in the extremities of her body, wiggling her toes, tensing the muscles in her legs, massively relieved when they all respond. “I mean-“

 

“Loads of desk work for a while, and no running about chasing after bad guys, but you’ll be fine, thank god,” Tracy replies with a sigh. “They think it nicked something vital, hence all the bleeding, but there wasn’t a massive amount of damage when they went in to look. Mostly muscular, I think. Which is why you’re in a bit of pain.”

 

“She said he was a bad shot,” Vanessa smiles gently before a yawn rumbles it’s way up her chest and she raises her hand to smother it.

 

“You’re lucky he was, sis,” Tracy says, squeezing her hand softly. “Look, try and get some rest alright? Paddy’s been coming and going to check on you, and I think he’s happy for me to stay here rather than be back at work, so get some sleep and I’ll probably be slumped over here waiting for you when you wake up, eh?”

 

“I’m alright now,” Vanessa returns, raising her hand to touch Tracy’s cheek. “Go home and have a shower. Get some sleep, please? You can bring me some trashy mags for when I wake up.”

 

“I’m not-“ Tracy argues but Vanessa shakes her head.

 

“Trace, you need to look after you too,” Vanessa sighs, dropping her palm from Tracy’s cheek to give her hand a squeeze on the bed. “Besides, you’ll have to wait on me hand and foot when they let me out of here, you might as well have a break while you can.”

 

“True,” Tracy says, rolling her eyes and laughing softly, but Vanessa can see the heaviness in her eyes and the fear spelt clearly across her face. She blows a shaky breath out before addressing Vanessa. “I’d have killed you all over if you’d left me alone again, you know. Bloody hell, Ness, I thought you were gone when they brought you in.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Vanessa replies earnestly, her throat thickening as she tries to chase back the tears. “I really am. And I have no intention of leaving you, I promise.” She smiles as a memory comes back to her all of a sudden. “It’s funny you know,” Vanessa grins, “that’s what she said too. While we were waiting for the paramedics to arrive, while she was trying to keep me awake.”

 

“Good, the message got through then, did it?” Tracy says, exhaling and shaking the sadness from her shoulders, smiling softly at Vanessa. “You sure you’re alright here?”

 

“I’ll be asleep before you’re even in the car,” Vanessa affirms, and Tracy only hesitates for a second before leaning forward, pressing a kiss to Vanessa’s cheek and standing up out of her chair.

 

She has a word with the nurse on the way out, offering Vanessa one last wave before she’s gone, and Vanessa can finally relax back into the surprising comfort of the bed. She’s thankful for the private room when she has enough space in her head to look around and notice it, relieved that the only _beep, beep, beep_ is from her monitor, and no one else’s. There are a bunch of flowers next to the bed that she can see out of the corner of her eye too, that she assumes will be from the others at the station.

 

She’s disappointed not to see any sign of Charity in the room, even though she knows how wildly unrealistic that would be anyway given Charity’s probably a thousand miles away from here, hiding low until her powers-that-be can remove any trace of her from the evening’s records. It settles like a rock in Vanessa’s stomach, that realisation, that it might be another month until she sees her again if she ever does, when in actual fact all she wants is to look Charity in the eye and thank her.

 

That; a deep expression of her solemn gratitude, closely followed by the desire to demand some way to contact her during these little periods of absence, during her disappearing acts. That’s what she wants to do.

 

If Charity ever comes back.

 

Vanessa can feel the pain start to creep back in around the edges of her thoughts now, so she closes her eyes, tensing her jaw and urging herself into sleep before the ache in her stomach settles and it escapes her completely. Flashes of her sister, and Charity, and the sound of Cain’s gun firing fill her mind, and then her dreams, when her consciousness slips.

 

Her sleep is restless, tainted by the morphine and the fear in her stomach, but somewhere through it the scent of Charity’s perfume finds her in a nightmare, and it eases it, soothing her, until finally she finds a calm, easy sleep.

 

-

 

Vanessa can feel the presence at the side of her bed before she opens her eyes, and she frowns, trying to bring herself up and out of sleep enough to growl at her sister.

 

“Trace?” Vanessa asks blearily, attempting to focus in the darkness of the room. “I thought I told you to get some rest. What are you doing here?”

 

“Wrong blonde, babe,” comes a voice that Vanessa isn’t expecting at all. “And I don’t think you told me anything of the sort.”

 

“Charity?” Vanessa rasps, completely taken aback, waiting for her eyes to find Charity at her bedside when she turns her head. “What the h- what are you doing here?”

 

“Just in the neighbourhood, you know? Thought I’d drop by,” Charity says with a wink before rolling her eyes. “I’m here to see you, Vanessa,” Charity drawls, “what else?”

 

“But, you shouldn’t be here?” Vanessa replies in a panic. “There are officers outside, aren’t there? How did you-“

 

Charity just smirks, tapping a badge on her chest that looks official and bureaucratic, and Vanessa rolls her eyes because of _course_ Charity walked in through the front door under everyone’s nose.

 

There’s a nurses station nestled in the middle of the floor that Vanessa can just see through the small window of her room. She chances a glance away from Charity to check for a lack of disturbance, relieved to find only dark and quiet and the odd spot of movement. Relieved to find that Charity seems to have been able to slip in with minimal fuss. Or mess.

 

Vanessa wants to speak, to ask Charity a thousand questions, but her throat feels like sandpaper, and she reaches for the drink off to her side before Charity moves quickly to help. She wraps her hands around Vanessa’s where they hold the cup, her fingers brushing Vanessa’s cheek when she helps Vanessa take the straw between her lips.

 

“Nice to see the habit of sneaking into my room in the middle of the night hasn’t changed,” Vanessa says quietly after a few measured swallows, and she smiles, but she notices that Charity doesn’t in reply. It’s enough to set off a reverberation of nervousness in her stomach, and she winces before continuing. “You shouldn’t be here, you know. Even with that badge.”

 

“Look, I understand if you don’t want me to be, babe, but I needed to come and apologise. And then I’ll go if you want me gone,” Charity replies seriously, her face uncharacteristically ashen.

 

Vanessa frowns in confusion. “Why would I want you to go?” she asks, suppressing the urge to reach for Charity’s hand, the flight-ready air of Charity’s posture unsettling.

 

“You’re-Vanessa, you’re here because of me,“ Charity replies plainly. “You almost bled out, because of me. You almost died, because of me. I assumed I’d be highest on the list of people you never wanted to see again when you woke up and came to your right mind.”

 

“Never wanted to see you again? Charity, no, don’t be ridiculous. I’m alive because of you,” Vanessa argues with as much conviction as her position will allow. “If I’d come across that situation without you there, Cain would have killed me. End of story. You know that. I know that you know that.”

 

“Yeah, but if I hadn’t insisted on staying here when they tried to send me abroad, he and I both would have been a thousand miles away from bloody London, and not there,” Charity says impatiently, seemingly annoyed that Vanessa’s being so reasonable.

 

“But the… the hit,” Vanessa asks delicately. “That would have still happened, right?”

 

“Probably,” Charity shrugs. “But-“

 

“So it would have been someone else I’d have stumbled on,” Vanessa says, cutting across Charity firmly. “Look, just let me say thank you for saving my life, would you?”

 

Charity glares but she takes Vanessa’s hand when Vanessa reaches for her, and Vanessa smiles when she notices her watch slide down Charity’s wrist into sight from where it was hidden up her sleeve.

 

“Were you going to leave?” Vanessa asks nervously, linking her fingers between Charity’s as though the simple action will keep her rooted here.

 

“They thought it would be for the best, just until they could clear everything off the books, but I’ve never been particularly good at taking orders, have I?” Charity says with a cynical laugh.

 

“Why didn’t you want to go?” Vanessa knows that it’s pushing it to ask, but she doesn’t have anything else to lose at this point.

 

“Because the weather's so bloody nice in London,” Charity says sarcastically. “Why do you think, babe? Because you’re here, aren’t you. And you’re not wherever they wanted to send me.”

 

Vanessa’s not expecting Charity to be so upfront with the admission and it takes her by surprise, the simplicity of it. The honesty. The earnest look in Charity’s eye, like she’s loathe to admit such a thing and accept responsibility for her feelings, but that it’s completely the truth at the same time.

 

“What does that mean?” Vanessa asks, carefully hesitant, trying to concentrate on the feeling of Charity’s hand in hers and not the low pounding pain in her gut, or the galloping of her heart in her chest.

 

“What do you want it to mean, Vanessa?” Charity replies, tipping her head to the side like she’s genuinely curious for the response.

 

“What do I want it to mean?” Vanessa asks, blowing out a deep breath between her teeth. “I want it to mean that we could go out on a date like normal people. That you could stay without having to climb up the drain pipe to hide from my sister. But those things are never going to happen, are they? Not even on the off chance that those are things you wanted, too.”

 

“You know, I tried to do the domestic normal thing with Cain when we were kids, at the very beginning of all this,” Charity reveals, surprising Vanessa who leans forward slightly, completely intrigued. “Got married, got out of all this for a while, and drove each other so crazy we almost did each other in before we called it quits.”

 

“Oh,” Vanessa says quietly. It’s ridiculous to be disappointed because she knows she shouldn’t have expected anything, but the dull ache of it finds her regardless.

 

“I’m too far in it to leave completely now,” Charity continues, and Vanessa inhales, holding the breath, waiting for the inevitable. “But-“

 

“You don’t have to say anything,” Vanessa says, shaking her head as her throat thickens.

 

“ _But_ ,” Charity says in a stronger voice, pressing over Vanessa’s objection. “It doesn’t mean I can’t do a few things differently going forward.”

 

Her hand twitches in Charity’s as she tries to process the words, Charity’s hand squeezing hers automatically to calm it. “What do you mean?” Vanessa asks breathlessly, searching Charity’s face for clarity. “Differently?”

 

“We’re never going to have a white picket fence, babe. I can’t give you that,” Charity says plainly, meeting Vanessa’s eyes. “And I can’t give you a stable relationship, either. I can’t give you Sunday roast dinners. I can’t give you brunch at the weekend with your mates. I can’t be your Christmas party date, obviously. I can’t guarantee I’ll be here on your birthday, or mine. Or Christmas. Or anything, really. But I might be able to give you something in between. If you want it. If it’s enough for you.”

 

It’s an almost overwhelming offer, but Vanessa can tell by the determined set of Charity’s jaw that it’s not one she gives lightly, nor doesn’t understand the complexity or danger of. It’s an enormous compromise on Charity’s part, it’s a commitment more serious than Vanessa thought she’d ever get in a million years. She struggles to find her voice, but she grips tighter to Charity’s hands as some vague acknowledgement until she can clear her throat.

 

“A phone number?” Vanessa asks with tear-heavy eyes, blinking rapidly as she tries to clear them.

 

“Yeah, babe,” Charity laughs at the minuscule request. “I can probably manage a phone number.”

 

“Is that something you want though?” Vanessa asks, swallowing the lump in her throat and watching for any sign Charity’s expression will give her. “Because I know it’s probably not, and it’s not going to be a walk in the park for you either, and I’d hate… I dunno, I’d hate to get in the way if your life is exactly the way you want it.”

 

“I wouldn’t be here if that wasn’t something I wanted, Vanessa,” Charity replies, sighing deeply, as though as much should be obvious to Vanessa already. “Trust me, I wasn’t exactly expecting a copper to run away with my bloody heart and make me want to toss in the way I’ve been doing things for years, but here we are. Life’s far too short not to indulge in the things we want. Isn’t this proof of that?”

 

“Is it that easy?” Vanessa asks hesitantly, because it really feels too good to be true. That Charity’s here at all, let alone that she wants some semblance of a relationship with her, as much as is humanly possible for them.

 

“Well, your sister will have to be in on it obviously,” Charity replies pragmatically. “To some extent, anyway, so she doesn’t call all your mates round to arrest me every time she thinks I’m in the house. But yeah, it can be. Never let anything come between what I want before. Why would I let it now?”

 

It takes Vanessa’s breath away, the ease with which Charity gives her that confirmation, and she feels her hands shake as her vision clouds and a stray tear escapes down her cheek. Charity catches it easily, swiping it off Vanessa’s face before it has a chance to roll off her chin.

 

“All of that for a phone number, eh?” Charity teases, making Vanessa laugh in exasperation, but she’s smiling by the time her face settles. “I might need to get you a phone that’s secure and we know’s not being tracked by your lot, but I’ll make sure it’s here by the time you’re discharged.”

 

This is never going to be easy, the fact that Charity can’t just enter her number in the phone in Vanessa’s bag and instead has to source an entirely different one, is the first of a million hoops they’ll have to jump through on a daily basis, but Vanessa can’t help but think it’s worth it. For now, anyway.

 

“What happens when your… people,” Vanessa asks carefully, “you know…retire?”

 

“Depends if we’ve done a good job or not,” Charity replies with a shrug. “They reward the good ones, and knock off the bad ones.”

 

“Reward?” Vanessa asks, frowning. “What do you mean, reward?”

 

“New identity, posh house in a remote location, bank account full of money, all that guff,” Charity answers casually, waving the hand not holding Vanessa’s in the air. “Supposed to be an incentive, eh? To do a good job while you’re active.”

 

“And the people that actually get that stuff, they’re not just knocked off too, are they?” Vanessa questions, trying to keep the doubt out of her voice. “That’s not just a line like, _no, he’s not dead, love, the dog’s just gone off to a very nice farm forever_.”

 

“Do you think people like me wouldn’t check to make sure that’s not the case?” Charity asks with a raised eyebrow. “Come on, babe. Give us a bit of credit.”

 

“True,” Vanessa replies, watching Charity’s face carefully. “And are you-“

 

“I do what I want, but for the most part I’m in their little list of favourites. For now anyway,” Charity says, the reply simple enough, but the cynicism in Charity’s voice clear. “If you can put up with this for a while, and you manage to keep yourself out of a flamin’ hospital bed, we can both see out our days on some disgustingly hot tropical island if your sister would survive without you.”

 

“You know how that sounds, don’t you?” Vanessa asks with a raised eyebrow.

 

“Like complete bollocks, I know, but what else are we gonna do?” Charity replies, scowling. She shifts in her seat so she can shuffle even closer to Vanessa’s bedside. “What’s the alternative? Just assume we’re both gonna get done in before then? I’m not an optimist, but I’d much rather have that as the light at the end of the tunnel than anything else. Wouldn’t you?”

 

“Yeah,” Vanessa says, nodding slowly. “Yeah, you’re right.” She takes a minute while Charity’s busy looking over machine on Vanessa’s other side, watching the hard lines of her face as she absorbs whatever information the incessantly beeping machine has to reveal.

 

There’s a deep intelligence in Charity’s face that Vanessa can see the second she stops to look for it. That gives her more hope than anything else, because Charity’s smart, she’s still alive after years spent in this business, and she wouldn’t be leading the two of them into a future that wasn’t at least somewhat sustainable. Or a death warrant.

 

Vanessa slides her hand up Charity’s forearm while her attention is still directed elsewhere. She runs her fingertips over the inside of Charity’s wrist, pushing the watch up her arm slightly so she can brush her thumb over the veins beneath Charity’s skin. “Thank you for the watch,” Vanessa says quietly. “You didn’t have to do that.”

 

“I’m not normally in the habit of replacing the things I nick, you know,” Charity replies with a smirk, her attention redirected. She leans down on the edge of Vanessa’s bed, close enough that Vanessa can feel the rush of Charity’s breath on her face, “but I thought it was probably in my best interests to try and sweeten you up somehow.”

 

“Yeah, well, it worked just fine,” Vanessa says a little roughly, because concentrating with Charity this close to her is some kind of Olympic task, especially after such a long time apart. “But I don’t need that, you know that, don’t you? All that flashy extra stuff, I mean. I just want you.”

 

“Good to know,” Charity nods solemnly, her grin widening as she leans in.

 

She hooks her finger under Vanessa’s chin gently, pressing a surprisingly tender kiss against Vanessa’s lips that she deepens when Vanessa doesn’t pull away, and Vanessa feels her heartbeat pick up until the machine to her left beeps alarmingly at the increased rate. They break with a slight unwillingness, Vanessa reaching for Charity’s forearm when she leans back.

 

“Not bad for an ego boost, that,” Charity nods to the higher than normal heart rate reading on the screen recording Vanessa’s vitals.

 

“Come on, like you really need a machine to tell you I enjoy kissing you,” Vanessa scoffs. She doesn’t bother with nonchalance or denial, the red of her cheeks would give her away if the monitor didn’t.

 

“Course not, I know I’m brilliant, but it’s always nice to hear it from an impartial party,” Charity replies with an air of cockiness that makes Vanessa roll her eyes and pull Charity closer for another kiss.

 

“You know, I’m suddenly feeling much better,” Vanessa sighs when Charity’s lips slip from hers, trailing one hand down Charity’s neck to rest on her shoulder. “You reckon you could spring me from here and take me home?”

 

Charity responds by levelling a glare at Vanessa, reaching forward like she’s going to jab Vanessa somewhere near the bullet wound. The reaction is automatic and Vanessa bends her body reflexively, trying to protect herself. She winces, hissing sharply at the pain of the movement before collapsing back against the bed, trying hard not to clutch her side.

 

“You think so, do you?” Charity asks smartly, and Vanessa responds by reaching forward blindly without moving her body and smacking Charity’s hand. It’s only a light slap and it makes Charity grin. “I think you’ve got about another weeks worth of being connected to that drip before you’ll be able to reach over your head without screwing your face up, babe, let alone being in a position to have any fun with me.”

 

“You know what, I do blame you for this,” Vanessa grumbles as pain radiates through her body, screwing her eyes shut. “Entirely.”

 

“That’s much more like it,” Charity laughs, slipping her hand into Vanessa’s again and squeezing tightly, giving her something to concentrate on besides the pain.

 

“Have you been shot before?” Vanessa asks without opening her eyes, suddenly aware of the fact that she’s seen Charity’s naked body and all its scars, but she only knows a minuscule amount of Charity’s actual history.

 

“Christ, more times than I can count,” Charity replies dryly. “Not as much as Cain though, he’s slower than I am, thank god. They normally get him and not me if we’re together.”

 

“Do you work with him often?” Vanessa asks, and she’s hoping the reason for her asking isn’t overtly obvious, but she’s sure Charity will pick up on it whether it is or not.

 

“Once every few months,” Charity answers her casually. “Depends if it’s a bigger job or not. Or if they think we need back up. He’s well handy sometimes, but he gets in the way more often than not.” Charity’s eyebrow raises subtly as her gaze narrows. “Not jealous are we, Vanessa?”

 

“He’s your ex-husband,” Vanessa growls, cracking one eye open to glare at Charity, not bothering to hide it now that Charity’s asked her so plainly. “Of course I am.”

 

The laugh that trips from Charity’s mouth might have sounded cruel to her a few months ago, but she knows better now. She’s amused. Vanessa’s feelings amuse her. Which only annoys Vanessa more.

 

“That’s why they pair us together, babe,” Charity says, before Vanessa has a chance to get any more worked up than she already is. “Because they know we won’t distract each other from the job. Because I’d rather shoot myself in the foot than shag him again.”

 

“Oh,” Vanessa mumbles quietly, feeling thoroughly stupid. She looks down at fraying fibres of the hospital blanket, picking at them instead of at Charity, wishing the bed would open up and swallow her whole. “Right.”

 

“Look, I’m not interested in playing games with you, Vanessa,” Charity says, her tone simple and soothing. “I’m not. I’m not interested in that bad-tempered prick I was married to. I’m not interested in the bird in Paris who lives next to the apartment I use when I’m there. There’s nothing else that’s gonna turn my head.”

 

“Not even other ageing policewomen you meet at posh events?” Vanessa asks as she tilts her head to the side, silently hoping the insecurity in her voice doesn’t betray her completely.

 

“Not ones that are as dynamite in the sack as you are,” Charity winks suggestively, and Vanessa can’t help but smile, her shoulders sagging in defeat at Charity’s charm.

 

“Yeah, well, you’re not half-bad yourself,” Vanessa admits. She slides her fingers through Charity’s, watching one of the flashing lights somewhere in the room illuminate the green of Charity’s eyes. “Even if you an unrelenting smart-arse.”

 

“All part of the charm, innit,” Charity says, raising an eyebrow, her gaze hot and direct in a way that makes Vanessa’s cheeks feel warm. “So we’re on the same page,” she adds, after a beat, “this means you’re not allowed to let any random bird take you out on a date, yeah?”

 

“Even if I were inclined to look, which I’m not, they’re not exactly throwing themselves at me like they are you,” Vanessa returns dryly. “I don’t think that’ll be a problem.”

 

“Lucky that, too,” Charity says, straightening her back without letting go of Vanessa’s hands. “Hate to have to break that rule of mine.”

 

“You wouldn’t,” Vanessa challenges, and Charity doesn’t reply but she shrugs in a way that says clearly to Vanessa that _she would, yes._ Probably without a backwards look.

 

It’s slightly horrifying, the mere idea of it, and the realisation that Charity is wholly capable of what she’s insinuating, but Vanessa can’t deny that it’s not still almost flattering, in some slightly sick way.

 

The message tone of Charity’s phone breaks the moment between them, and Charity drops one of Vanessa’s hands to retrieve it from her pocket, frowning when she reads the message. “That’s my cue, I’m afraid, babe,” Charity sighs, darkening the screen before she drops it back into her pocket.

 

“Oh, you don’t have to go already, do you?” Vanessa says before she can catch herself. Mentally berating herself, she follows it with a look that says _I know, I know this is what it’s always going to be like_ that settles Charity’s frown.

 

“I mean, if you want to introduce me to your sister now, I can stay-“ Charity offers, sighing heavily before she throws Vanessa a cheeky wink. “But I thought you might want a chance to talk to her first.”

 

Vanessa bites her tongue rather than answering properly, not wanting to give Charity the satisfaction of telling her she was right, adamantly ignoring the smug look on her face.

 

“Thank you for coming,” Vanessa says eventually, swallowing her pride and refusing to waste their last few minutes together. “And thank you for-“

 

Charity’s lips stop her mid-sentence, but Vanessa doesn’t argue, she lets herself get lost for a moment instead. She kisses Charity properly, bringing both of her hands to Charity’s face, the one not connected to her drip-line sliding back into Charity’s hair as Charity’s tongue brushes hers. She kisses Charity with a purpose, with the passion of the life moving through her aching body that she has Charity to thank for, with the knowledge that she doesn’t know when she’ll have this again.

 

“It won’t be a month,” Charity says as if she can read Vanessa’s mind, her palm sliding down Vanessa’s neck when she pulls away. “It won’t be a month, Ness. And I’ll get a phone sorted in the next few days, so at least we’ll be able to talk.”

 

“I know it’s ridiculous to say be careful, but will you? This rehab is going to be hell, but it’ll be worse if you’re not waiting with a bottle of champagne in my bed to celebrate getting to the end of it,” Vanessa says, trying to batt away a thin air of patheticness hanging around her.

 

“Careful hasn’t ever been in my vocabulary, babe,” Charity replies dryly, but her smile is softer than her words, and Vanessa knows that Charity’s taken in and acknowledged her worry.

 

“How about, be less reckless?” Vanessa asks hopefully, in compromise, but Charity snorts dismissively at that, too.

 

“Nope, not that either,” Charity throws back with a smirk. She softens when she leans down to kiss Vanessa one last time though, her thumb brushing over Vanessa’s cheekbone. “I’ll do my best to stay out of too much trouble, will that do?”

 

“It’ll suffice, yeah,” Vanessa replies, shrugging with a fake casualness and suppressing a grin at the same time.

 

“Cheeky cow,” Charity says warmly as she stands, setting her hands on her hips and scowling playfully down at Vanessa. “Here’s me tryin’ my best, and I hardly crack a smile in thanks for my effort.”

 

“I’ll thank you when you’re in my bed and we’re both in one piece,” Vanessa responds smoothly, little flashes of memory, of their last night together, sparking in the active part of her mind.

 

“Now that is a deal I can get on board with,” Charity breezes. She gives Vanessa a wink and one last kiss on the cheek that makes her heart swoop, before walking over to the window.

 

“Doesn’t that ridiculous badge on your chest mean you don’t have to do that?” Vanessa sighs when Charity cracks it open enough to throw a knee-high booted, black-jeaned thigh up and over the windowsill.

 

“Didn’t you just ask me to be careful?” Charity asks incredulously, glaring at Vanessa as she straddles the sill.

 

“Yes,” Vanessa answers with an open mouth, completely perplexed, “and I fail to see how climbing out a window is being more careful than walking down the stairs?”

 

“Change of guards, babe,” Charity says, throwing her head to the policemen that Vanessa knows are situated just outside her door. “Due to happen in about ten minutes, so their replacements could be out there right now, and we don’t know if any of them managed to study that little portrait of yours very carefully before my lot could destroy it, so unless you’d rather I make a mess out there for the nurses to clean up-“

 

“Just go,” Vanessa sighs, not able to stop the laugh at the ridiculousness of this whole mess when Charity rolls her eyes, huffing before she ducks her head and jumps down onto the roof of the next building, handily situated below the edge of Vanessa’s window.

 

“No flirting with the nurses,” Charity replies as a piece of parting wisdom. She points her finger at Vanessa as she takes a few steps away from the window, the sound of her boots no more than a dull creak on the material of the roof.

 

“You either,” Vanessa hisses back, and Charity beams before she turns her head and disappears into the still dark morning, her footfalls and silhouette barely discernible to Vanessa after a few seconds.

 

It doesn’t stop her watching the window for a few long minutes before she falls back against the half-propped hospital bed. She’s not entirely convinced the whole thing won’t be some kind of fever dream come the morning because it all feels too good to be true, but she supposes pragmatically that the throbbing pain in her stomach is probably proof that it’s real enough.

 

Vanessa closes her eyes for a moment, trying to block out the pain and fill her mind with Charity instead; with what a life of having her in small pockets might look like, with how the bloody hell she's going to explain all of this to her sister.

 

She dozes lightly for a few hours until she hears Tracy’s voice in the hallway talking to one of the nurses, and she opens her eyes to a sun-filled room, the curtains fluttering with a light morning breeze, and a vague sense of temporary peace in the air.

 

“Morning, V,” Tracy says brightly, holding up a bag of something that smells enticingly like bacon and fried potato. “How are you feeling?” Her smile falters for a second as a frown finds its way between her brows, and she looks between the window and Vanessa, confused. “Hey, why’s the window open? I definitely left it closed.”

 

“Sit down, Trace,” Vanessa replies, inhaling deeply and patting the space on the bed next to her as she reaches for the bag of food. “We need to have a little talk.”

 

-

  

**End/Four.**

 

(Do you think we’ll ever come home from war? Do you even want to?)

 

-


	5. epilogue.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vanessa recovers and Charity keeps her promises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, finally!
> 
> Thanks so much for sticking around and reading this if you've been here since the beginning, or for jumping in somewhere along the line. This has hands down been one of my favourite vanity things to write ever and while I haven't written anything yet because I have about ten vanity WIP's on the go, but I can definitely see some sort of follow up to this somewhere along the line...
> 
> x

-

 

**Five**

 

Love means pain, babe. You know the game.

 

-

 

“Nice of you to leave us the house for the weekend.”

 

It’s a sight Vanessa hasn’t become completely accustomed to, Tracy and Charity in the same room, but it’s one that has occurred with a surprising regularity over the last month.

 

She won’t lie and say the conversation with Tracy about Charity went well to begin with, but she’s come around more than Vanessa had been expecting as they’ve spent a little more time together and Tracy’s had the opportunity to see Charity help her with her rehabilitation.

 

It’s a slightly tentative peace they’ve found between them, but it’s a peace nonetheless, and Vanessa’s remarkably thankful for that because without Tracy’s approval, without her turning a blind eye to the fact that her sister is intertwined into some semblance of a relationship with an assassin, this frankly wouldn’t be possible at all.

 

“You’re joking, right? You think I’m going to stick around and listen to the racket I know will be coming from that bedroom?” Tracy laughs at Charity’s comment. “Not bloody likely.”

 

She’d caught Vanessa unlocking the latch on her bedroom window a half hour ago, sighing loudly before grumbling _just tell her to come in the flamin’ front door, at least I can give her a hard word and escape before you start shagging._

 

“You don’t have to go, Trace,” Vanessa replies slightly sheepishly. “We can try and-“

 

“Yes, she does,” Charity drawls at exactly the same time as Tracy says, “yes, I do.”

 

“See,” Charity says brightly, popping open the bottle of champagne in her hands, “we’re all in agreement. And look, babe, if you meet a nice bloke while you’re away, I’ll foot the bill for a few extra nights, yeah?”

 

“You know, you could make your attempts at keeping me out of the house for as long as possible slightly more transparent,” Tracy bites back with a scowl.

 

“Oh, but when you’re mardy you frown just like Vanessa does, and it’s far too amusing to pass up,” Charity parries and Vanessa can’t help but snort in reply.

 

“Right, well, I’m going to go before the two of you start picking on me like school kids,” Tracy says with a sarcastic grin. “You’re aware that she was shot about a month ago, yes?” Tracy says directly to Charity. “Adjust the sex accordingly. If I come home to an even more broken sister-“

 

“You know, I’ve actually been thinking about that,” Charity says with genuine enthusiasm, interrupting Tracy with a wicked glint in her eye. “I think the best position would be for your sister to lay back and-“

 

“Alright!” Tracy replies loudly, throwing her hands up in the air, waving them in front of her face as though the action will stop any more sound reaching her ears. “Alright,” she scowls at Charity, “I get it. I’m going.”

 

Tracy walks over to Vanessa, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek, throwing Charity one last dirty glare before she grabs the handle of her small suitcase and wheels it down the hallway.

 

“Bye, babe,” Charity calls after her, winking at Vanessa when she closes the distance between them, sliding her arm around Vanessa’s lower back. “Don’t worry I’ll take _real_ good care of your sister.”

 

“Keep off the furniture,” Tracy yells from the front door, making Vanessa laugh as the door slams before she turns into Charity’s arms. She moves hands around Charity’s sides, flattening them in the middle of her back, pulling them closer together.

 

“You know, I think she’s really starting to warm to me,” Charity says, sounding a bit pleased with herself.

 

“I think you’re right,” Vanessa replies honestly. It’s not just to keep Charity happy, the admission, because Tracy might seem as frosty as she did the first time Vanessa had cautiously introduced them to each other, but Charity’s proven her loyalty in these last few weeks with the more or less constant contact, and the odd drop in, and she knows that’s gone a long way in earning Tracy’s trust.

 

“You think?” Charity asks with a raised eyebrow. “She’s allowing an unsupervised sleepover, babe. I’m pretty sure that means we’re best mates.”

 

“Do you think you can stay the whole night, then?” Vanessa asks, trying not to allow her hopes to build up too high.

 

It’s been significantly easier, the last few weeks, because Charity had come through on her promise the next day after leaving Vanessa in her hospital room. There had been a phone waiting for her on her bedside table the following morning when she’d woken up, with Charity’s number saved amongst a number of filler contacts. Vanessa had sent a message off as soon as she’d been alert enough to make out the keyboard, a photo of Charity with today’s paper, a cup of tea, and a ridiculously smug look on her face coming back a few minutes later in reply.

 

_Just in case you needed proof that you were talking to the real article_ , had come a message to follow, and Vanessa hadn’t been able to wipe the smile off her face for the rest of the day. Their contact had been more or less constant since that morning, aided by the phone, even if it had been a fortnight before Charity had been able to sneak into Vanessa’s bedroom window after she’d been released from hospital.

 

“No funny business,” Charity had said sternly when Vanessa had tried to deepen the first kiss Charity had set on her lips, the second she’d crawled her way up Vanessa’s bed and dropped down alongside her, on top of the covers. “You think I want you back in that bloody hospital bed with a row of burst stitches?”

 

“Why, you can’t do gentle?” Vanessa had asked with a frown, before Charity had laughed, the sound of it making Vanessa’s cheeks blush pink.

 

“Oh, I can do gentle just fine,” Charity had replied with a smirk, “if the occasion’s right, but I can’t do anything less than mind-blowing, babe, and that’ll be the problem, yeah?”

 

“Well I haven’t had a heavy-petting session since I was about eighteen,” Vanessa sighed, slightly disappointed even though she’d known Charity had been right, and that she hadn’t been nearly fit enough for anything remotely physical. “I guess that might still be fun?”

 

“Might? Kissing me a chore already, is it?” Charity had asked with mock hurt, and Vanessa had smiled wickedly before grasping roughly at Charity’s jacket and pulling her closer.

 

“It’s terrible,” she’d mumbled against Charity’s lips. “Absolutely terrible. So terrible I plan on doing nothing else until the sun comes up.”

 

It had been immensely difficult to keep her hands mostly to herself until exhaustion had overwhelmed her and they’d fallen asleep together, but it had been harder in the weeks that had followed, craving Charity with a burning in the pit of her stomach as she’d recovered slowly.

 

Feeling like a hormonally charged teenager hadn’t been at all helped by Charity’s string of suggestive messages before she’d crashed most nights either, but as strong as her desire had been without Charity in front of her, it’s multiplied exponentially by the feeling of her solid and strong at Vanessa’s side.

 

“Unless something tremendously drastic happens, I’m all yours,” Charity says in response to Vanessa’s earlier question. Her hands curl around Vanessa’s sides, running up and down the length of her waist from hip to rib cage, and Vanessa shivers, the ripple moving from the tips of her ears down to her toes.

 

“Well, it’d be a shame to waste any more time then, just in case you get called away, don’t you-“

 

Charity catches the rest of Vanessa’s sentence between her lips, pulling Vanessa to her firmly, kissing her deeply enough for everything to turn into a dull blur around them. Her hands bite into Vanessa’s sides gently and her tongue is ravenous and Vanessa realises with a throb when Charity pushes her hips into hers, that Charity’s probably as hungry for this as she is.

 

“Less talking,” Charity says roughly, her hands slipping into Vanessa’s as she turns towards the stairs, pulling Vanessa with her.

 

Vanessa doesn’t waste the opportunity when they reach the foot of the stairs. She pushes Charity backwards until she’s pressed hard against the wall, stepping into the space between her thighs, sliding her own between Charity’s. She levers forward with her thigh but holds her upper body back, bracketing her arms on either side of Charity’s head until Charity snaps at the friction.

 

She knocks the strength from the inside of Vanessa’s elbows smoothly with the heel of her palms, the reminder of her hand to hand skill making Vanessa’s stomach drop, catching Vanessa by the shoulders before she has a chance to fall too far forward, kissing her hard as Vanessa’s heart hammers in her chest.

 

“You’re not fit enough to play, yet, babe,” Charity mumbles against Vanessa’s lips when she pushes Vanessa away, her hands like a vice grip around the tops of Vanessa’s arms, holding almost all of her weight like it’s nothing.

 

“Maybe not,” Vanessa replies smoothly, pushing her thigh against Charity’s core harder, drawing out a moan, “but I’m fit enough to do something.”

 

“‘Bout bloody time too,” Charity growls, nipping her bottom lip before she turns Vanessa away, motioning for her to walk up the stairs, wrapping herself around Vanessa’s back when she starts making her way up. “I’m about ready to burst into flames.”

 

“That irresistible, am I?” Vanessa throws over her shoulder and Charity’s arms snake around her stomach in answer, one of them sliding high to palm one of her breasts roughly.

 

“Yes,” Charity drawls into her ear when they reach the landing, her breath hot and her voice like honey. “You bloody well are.”

 

“Even with this?” Vanessa asks, placing her hand over Charity’s when it runs gently over the healing wound.

 

“Especially with that,” Charity assures her, dragging her lips down the column of Vanessa’s neck. She walks Vanessa through the bedroom door before she pulls to a halt as they near the bed. “In fact,” Charity says thoughtfully, with a sincerity that Vanessa instantly questions, “I think it’s probably a good idea that I do my own inspection. Just to make sure you’re fit for duty, you know.”

 

“And what does that entail exactly?” Vanessa asks with a shaky voice as Charity pulls her top free from her trousers, running her hands over Vanessa’s bare stomach.

 

“You’ll have to wait and see, won’t you?” Charity replies absently. She turns Vanessa in her arms before dropping to her knees and setting herself to the task of unbuttoning Vanessa’s pants.

 

Charity’s hands move broadly over the skin of her thighs after she helps Vanessa step out of them like she’s trying to refamiliarize herself with the sensation of Vanessa beneath her palms. It leaves Vanessa with a vague sense of being worshipped and she tips her head back, closing her eyes, steadying herself with a hand on Charity’s shoulder as she kisses her way up Vanessa’s body.

 

“I missed you, babe,” Charity breathes to the rippled flesh of her inner thigh, making Vanessa’s knees weaken. “I missed this.”

 

“I missed you too,” Vanessa replies, her heart skipping over its unsteady rhythm at Charity’s admission.

 

Her breath falters too when Charity stops in a crouch, her eyes at Vanessa’s waist, not lifting any further. Her hands push Vanessa’s shirt up, revealing the gradually healing wound on her stomach. It’s still covered, a thin layer of transparent breathable skin protecting it, and it still hurts with most of her movements, but she feels much stronger now, strong enough that she barely winces when Charity runs her thumbs gently around the edge of the dressing.

 

“How does it feel now?” Charity asks, her eyes inspecting the wound keenly, not looking to Vanessa. “Does it bother you?”

 

“Not as much as it did,” Vanessa replies honestly, her whole body softening with the surprisingly tender touch of Charity’s hands.

 

“Tell me if it does,” Charity says seriously, and she does look up at Vanessa then, a wary light in her eye. “I don’t want you to push it. As much as I want to have you moaning these walls down, you need to-“

 

“I will,” Vanessa says, cutting across Charity neatly. “I promise I will, but listen to me if I say it’s alright, won’t you? It sounds pathetic, but I’ve missed you a lot, and-“

 

“I know, Ness,” Charity soothes, rising smoothly and without a sound, her hands running over Vanessa’s thighs and her hips, settling around the hem of her shirt.

 

She tugs and Vanessa falls against her gently, their lips meeting half way through a breath. She sighs when Charity breaks the kiss by lifting Vanessa’s shirt up, forcing her to put distance between them so she can raise her arms carefully and Charity can lift off and discard the item of clothing behind them.

 

“Hope you’re not planning on staying clothed the whole night,” Vanessa says, feeling her own state of undress compared to Charity’s when Charity pulls her close and her bare skin meets the rough fabric of Charity’s jeans.

 

“Just waiting for someone to start taking it off,” Charity says with a dramatic huff, as though Vanessa’s paid her no mind the entire evening and hasn’t been glued to her side since she walked in the door. “No fun to have to do everything yourself, is it?”

 

“You’re impossible,” Vanessa sighs, already smiling into the next kiss as her hands move to the closure of Charity’s jeans.

 

“And you fancy me regardless,” Charity hums smugly. She watches as Vanessa pushes the fabric down over her hips before helping Vanessa unbutton her shirt, their hands knocking against each other in their haste.

 

_I more than fancy you_ , is on the tip of Vanessa’s tongue but she bites it back just in time, even though she’s sure the sentiment is written clearly on her face anyway.

 

She knows it’s far too early and it’s far too messy a situation for her to declare her undying devotion, but she thinks she’s probably been in love in one way or another since Charity disappeared from the ballroom the very first night they met.

 

There’s no surety in either of their futures: not in tomorrow, or a week from now, or a year, but Vanessa supposes there isn’t ever really such a thing in a traditional relationship anyway. What _is_ sure, however, is the firmness of Charity’s thighs when she drops onto the edge of the bed, pulling Vanessa into her lap so that Vanessa’s straddling her.

 

Charity’s arms are solid as they run up Vanessa’s body, her hands curling around Vanessa’s shoulders, giving her something to lean back against so she doesn’t have to use the wobbly strength of her core to keep herself upright. She wriggles her hips beneath Vanessa, bringing her forward so Vanessa’s torso is almost flush up against hers.

 

“Nice of you to dress up,” Charity breathes, her eyes black like coal, the green in them obsolete as she looks directly at the new bra, presently at eye level, that Vanessa had bought in an embarrassed rush on the way home. “Trying to impress me?”

 

“It’s laundry day,” Vanessa says flippantly, her eyes fluttering closed when Charity’s hand slips beneath her bra strap at her back. “Didn’t have anything else.”

 

“Liar,” Charity throws back, smirking before she takes Vanessa’s mouth against her own, her tongue insistent, working Vanessa’s blood into a furore.

 

The heat between their bodies feels almost inhuman as they kiss and kiss and kiss until Vanessa feels like she’s coming apart in Charity’s arms, squirming in her lap before Charity’s even touched her. There’s a damp trail from the edge of her lips when Charity changes tact, moving her mouth down the length of her neck, over her chest, to the tops of her breasts, a path that Charity blows gently on, the chill a sharp juxtaposition against the heat of Charity’s body all around her.

 

“Are you ready, Vanessa?” Charity asks, her breath thick and just as seductive as her touch, and Vanessa knows that the question is loaded, that Charity’s asking a thousand things all at once, but the answer is the same to all of them. The answer will always be the same.

 

“Yes,” Vanessa replies with a sigh, as Charity wraps her arm around her lower back, turning both of their bodies so she can finally lay Vanessa down on her back in the middle of the bed and settle between her thighs.

 

“Sure?” Charity questions, her hand drawing a line down Vanessa’s body, between her breasts, carefully down her stomach, the healing muscles leaping beneath Charity’s touch. “Really, really sure?”

 

“I’ve been ready since you walked in that damn door,” Vanessa growls, twisting her hands into the covers, trying desperately not to reveal how badly she wants to climb out of her skin at the madness Charity’s touch brings.

 

“Good,” Charity replies with a smirk. She lowers her mouth to Vanessa’s belly, pressing a quick kiss to the unblemished skin above her healing scar. “Because I’ve been ready since I walked in through that damn door, too.”

 

Vanessa’s back arches as Charity’s hands deftly slide her underwear over her hips and down her thighs. “Only since then?”

 

“No, since the last time I left you in bed, babe,” Charity growls, slipping her hand beneath Vanessa’s back, flicking the clasp of her bra open before she loops her fingers under the straps and pulls them softly down her arms, “if you must know.”

 

“Thank god for that,” Vanessa moans heavily when Charity’s mouth closes around a nipple. “I was beginning to think I’d lost my charm.”

 

“Are you going to talk the whole way through this?” Charity laughs against Vanessa’s chest, the rush of air tickling the sensitive, pebbled skin.

 

“Until you give me a reason not to, or shut me up another way,” Vanessa offers smugly, leaning up on her elbows to look up at Charity.

 

“God, I have missed you,” Charity smirks, her eyes glimmering like she’s thinking exactly the same thing Vanessa caught herself from saying earlier.

 

“I’ve missed you too,” Vanessa replies, pulling Charity hastily to her. “Don’t let me get shot again, will you? It’s been torture this, having to keep our hands to ourselves.”

 

“How about you never forget your bloody vest again,” Charity growls, kissing her way to Vanessa’s throat. She bites down heavily, the action a clear warning. “If I have to be less reckless then you have to be more careful,” she breathes hotly against Vanessa’s neck, “because Christ, babe, I actually thought you might’ve been a goner for a second there.”

 

“Would you really have missed me?” Vanessa asks curiously, arching her back when Charity flattens her body along her own and slides her hand up her inner thigh. “Wouldn’t have just replaced me with some other younger, less scarred, dishy blonde?”

 

“One of these days you’re going to realise you’re a bit irreplaceable, Vanessa Woodfield,” Charity purrs as her fingers dip into the thick heat between Vanessa’s thighs and Vanessa gasps.

 

She plants her heels down into the bed, forcing her hips up against Charity’s hand until Charity pushes them back down with her spare hand.

 

“If you keep telling me,” Vanessa sighs roughly, her hands moving around the nape of Charity’s neck, sinking into her hair as her fingers move with slow, heavy precision, like she knows exactly what Vanessa wants, “I might just start to believe you.”

 

Charity chuckles deeply, the sound warming Vanessa’s cheeks. God, she has missed this she thinks as she breathes the rich scent of Charity’s perfume in, she’s missed this, she’s missed Charity and the weight of her body so much more than she’d allowed herself to realise. She tightens her hands in Charity’s hair, her forearms across Charity’s shoulders, feeling the edge of her body melt at the contact.

 

She’s almost certain this is going to end in tragedy, but she hopes it doesn’t, not even for the sake of her own mortality, but because she knows this is a once in a lifetime connection, what they have, Charity is unique and she likes her, seems as drawn to Vanessa as she does to her in fact, seems as inescapably locked into this as Vanessa is. No, she’s not alone, she thinks as Charity leans into Vanessa’s slightly desperate embrace. She’s not. Charity wants this, she’s missed this as much Vanessa has.

 

“I can tell you,” Charity says smoothly, her tone almost maddening in its seductiveness as Vanessa behind to shudder beneath her touch, “but I can show you too,” she whispers like it’s a promise of more than just what’s in front of them now, “if you’d like.

-

 

**End**.

 

(Risk, you say? But love, what of the reward?)

 

-

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me over on [tumblr](http://tigerlo.tumblr.com), there are a few mini fics there that haven't made it to ao3 yet. Feel free to drop by if you have a question or query.
> 
> x


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